Autobiography 


EDI TED 


W.D.Howells 


Carlo 

GOLDONI 


1 


5 


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CHOICE  AUTOBIOGRAPHIES. 

EDITED  BY  WILLIAM  D.  HOWELLS. 

"  Little  Classic  "  Style.    -       -       -    $  1.25  a  volume. 


This  series  of  the  best  autobiographies  is  prepared  especially 
for  general  reading.  Each  life  is  prefaced  with  a  critical  and 
biographical  essay  by  Mr.  Howells,  in  which  the  sequel  of  the 
author's  history  is  given,  together  with  collateral  matter  from 
other  sources,  illustrative  of  his  period  and  career.  In  some 
cases  the  autobiographies  are  reduced  in  bulk  by  the  rejection 
of  uninteresting  and  objectionable  matter.  It  is  designed  to 
include  in  the  series  the  famous  autobiographies  of  all  lan- 
guages, and  to  offer  in  a  compact  and  desirable  edition  all  that 
is  best  in  this  most  charming  of  all  literature. 

JAMES  B.  OSGOOD  &  CO.,  Publishers,  Boston. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


MEMOIRS 


C  A  R  L  0  (G  O'L  D  O  N 


TRANSLATED    FROM    THE    ORIGINAL    FRENCIÏ, 
BY    JOHN    BLACK. 


WITH    AN    ESSAY 
By  WILLIAM  D.  HOWELLS. 


BOS  TO 
JAMES  R.  OSGOOD    AND    COMPANY, 

Late  Ticknor  &  Fields,  and  Fields,  Osgood.  &  Co. 
1877. 


COPYRIGHT. 

.    D.    HOWELLS. 

1877. 


University  Press  :  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co., 
Cambridge. 


CARLO    GOLDONI 


FTER  Oliver  Goldsmith,  I  do  not  know  any 
figure  in  the  history  of  literature  that  should 
take  the  geutle  reader's  liking  more  than  the 


These  two  charming  writers  are  not  unlike  in  certain 
particulars  of  their  lives.  They  were  both  children  of 
that  easy-going  eighteenth  century,  of  the  period  before 
its  griefs  began  with  the  French  Revolution,  and  as 
Irishman  and  Venetian  they  might  very  naturally  have 
been  allied  in  temperament;  the  American  traveller  is 
nowhere  more  vividly  reminded  of  a  certain  class  of 
adoptive  fellow-citizens  than  in  Venice.  Moreover, 
they  had  both  the  vagabondizing  instinct,  and  were 
aesthetic  wanderers,  Goldsmith  all  over  Europe,  and 
Gfôldonî  up  and  down  Italy,  to  die  after  many  years 
of  self-exile  in  France.  They  were  alike  in  their  half 
education  for  the  medical  profession,  and  alike  in 
abandoning  that  respectable  science  for  the  groves  of 
Academe,  not  to  say  Bohemia;  Goldoni,  indeed,  left 
the  law  and  several  other  useful  and  grave  employ- 
ments for  those  shades,  which  are  not  haunts  of 
flowery  ease,  after  all.     But  these  authors   are   even 


6  CARLO   GOLDONI. 

more  alike  in  certain  engaging  qualities  of  mind  than 
in  their  external  circumstances.  If  the  English  essay- 
ist was  vastly  higher  in  the  theory  than  in  the  conduct 
of  life,  poor  Goldoni  had  his  mural  ideas,  too,  and  tried 
to  teach  in  his  comedies  purity,  good  faith,  and  other 
virtues  which  were  foolishness  tu  most  of  the  world  "by 
whose  favor  he  must  live.  He  resembled  Goldsmith  in 
the  amiability  of  his  satire,  the  exquisite  naturalness 
of  his  characterization,  the  simplicity  of  his  literary 
motive  ;  but  he  was  no  poet,  though  a  genius,  and  he 
falls  below  Goldsmith  in  this  rather  than  in  respect 
of  the  morality  he  taught. 

Perhaps  Dr.  Goldsmith  would  have  been  but  little 
pleased  to  be  compared  with  the  A'enetian  dramatist, 
if  the  comparison  had  been  made  in  his  lifetime,  for  if 
he  ever  heard  of  Goldoni  at  all,  it  must  have  been  in 
scornful  terms  from  that  Joseph  Barretti  who  dwelt  in 
London  and  consorted  with  Doctor  Johnson,  and  had 
wielded  upon  his  Italian  brethren  a  Frusta  Letteraria, 
or  Literary  Lash  (as  he  called  his  ferocious  critical 
papers),  that  drew  blood:  Barretti  despised  Goldoni 
for  a  farceur  of  low  degree,  not  being  able  to  see  the 
truth  and  power  of  his  comedies,  and  used  to  speak  of 
him  as  "  one  Charles  Goldoni."  Nevertheless,  if  the 
Venetian  could  have  brought  himself  to  leave  the  de- 
lights of  Paris  long  enough  to  pay  that  visit  to  Lon- 
don which  the  Italian  operatic  company  once  desired 
of  him,  he  might  have  met  Goldsmith;  and  then  I  am 
sure  that  the  founder  and  master  of  the  natural  school 
of  English  fiction  would  have  liked  the  inventor  of 
realistic  Italian  comedy.  At  any  rate  Goldoni  would 
have  liked  Goldsmith.  The  Spectator  was  the  fashion 
at  Venice  as  well  as  at  London  in  Groldoni's  day:  it 
had  formed  the  taste  for  the  kind  of  writing  in  which 


CARLO   GOLDONI.  7 

Goldsmith  excelled,  and  The  Citizen  of  the  World 
would  have  found  an  intelligent  admirer  in  a  man  who 
helplessly  knew  as  much  of  the  world  as  himself. 

I  wish  with  all  my  heart  that  these  amiable  au- 
thors were  alike  in  having  both  written  their  memoirs. 
What  a  treasure  would  not  the  autobiography  of  Gold- 
smith be,  written  with  the  fulness  and  frankness  of 
Goldoni's  !  What  would  we  not  give  for  such  a  pic- 
ture of  London  life  as  Goldoni  paints  of  Venetian  life 
in  the  first  half  of  the  last  century  !  I  fancy  the  his- 
tory of  Goldsmith  written  by  himself  with  the  same 
gentleness  and  forgiving  mildness  and  humorous  self- 
satire  as  Goldoni's  ;  more  of  these  qualities  it  could  not 
have  ;  and  I  doubt  if  in  the  whole  range  of  autobiog- 
raphy one  can  find  anything  of  a  cheerfuller  sweetness. 
I  have  personally  to  be  glad  that  his  memoirs  was  one 
of  the  first  books  which  fell  into  my  hands  when  I  went 
to  live  in  Venice,  and  that  I  read  it  together  with  his 
comedies,  so  that  the  romantic  city  became  early  hu- 
manized tome  through  the  life  and  labors  of  the  kindly 
dramatist.  The  "  large  and  beautiful  house  "  in  which 
Goldoni  says  he  was  born,  between  the  bridges  of  the 
Knuckle-bone  and  the  Honest  Woman  (the  Venetian 
street  nomenclature  is  much  of  it  deliciously  quaint), 
is  still  shown  to  strangers;  and  I  have  no  doubt  but 
at  Chiozza,  where  much  of  his  boyhood  was  passed, 
they  could  find  you,  for  a  very  small  sum,  many  palaces 
in  which  he  lived.  At  any  rate,  when  you  visit  that 
smaller  and  forlorner  Venice,  twenty-five  miles  away 
in  the  lagoons,  you  cannot  have  a  pleasauter  associa- 
tion with  it  than  the  dramatist's  memory.  Goldoni 
will  tell  you  that  he  was  always  returning  to  Chiozza 
from  whatever  misadventure  he  met  with  elsewhere, 
until   he  finally  fled  the  lagoons  to  escape  marriage 


8  CARLO    GOLDOXI. 

with  a  young  lady  of  that  city  to  whom  he  had  inad- 
vertently betrothed  himself.  It  was  here  that  his 
mother  remained,  while  his  father  tried  to  establish 
himself,  at  this  city  and  that,  in  his  profession  of  phy- 
sician, and  vainly  placed  his  son  at  one  school  and 
another,  and  was  always  on  the  point  of  making  his 
fortune.  They  were  of  a  gay,  improvident  Modenese 
race,  and  from  the  time  when  Goldoni's  grandfather 
came  to  Venice  and  outshone  all  the  patricians  in  the 
wasteful  splendor  of  his  villa  on  the  Brenta,  to  the  very 
last  year  of  the  dramatist's  life  amid  the  early  days  of 
the  French  Revolution,  his  career  seems  to  have  been 
providentially  enriched  by  every  strange  experience 
that  could  fit  into  the  hand  of  a  comic  author.  What 
better  fortune  for  a  man  destined  to  write  comedy  than 
that  he  should  run  away  from  school  at  Rimini,  and 
come  back  by  sea  with  a  company  of  strolling  players 
in  their  bark  to  Chiozza  ;  or  that  from  the  college  of 
Pavia,  where  his  father  afterwards  placed  him.  he 
should  be  expelled  f<  it  writing  a  lampoon  on  the  princi- 
pal families  of  the  city?  He  tells  us  how  he  was  in- 
stantly smitten  with  shame  and  remorse,  and  sixty  years 
later,  when  he  writes  his  memoirs,  he  is  still  on  his 
knees  to  such  of  the  good  people  as  have  so  long  sur- 
vived the  wrong  he  did  them.  But  in  the  mean  time 
there  was  that  Dominican  friar  who  accompanied  him 
home, — that  friar  who  confessed  him  and  took  all  his 
little  money  from  him  in  penance,  and  then  fell  asleep 
amidst  the  tale  of  his  remaining  sins  :  a  friar  forever 
precious  to  the  imagination  !  And  there  was  the  pic- 
turesque and  melodramatic  family  dismay  when  he 
reached  home:  his  father's  wrath,  his  mother's  tears! 
It  is  all  like  a  chapter  of  Gil  Bias. 

Goldoni  was  still  very  young,   and  lie  had  a  very 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  V 

good  heart  ;  he  had  been  cajoled  into  his  satire  by 
some  malicious  fellow-students^  and  the  lesson  that 
humanity  is  above  literature  came  to'him  mercifully 
early.  He  was  thereafter  the  founder  of  a  school  that 
ennobled  satire  by  dispersonalizing  it.  As  regarded 
his  dramatic  career,  his  expulsion  from  college  was  an 
advantage.  It  made  him  the  companion  of  his  father 
in  his  medical  practice  at  Chiozza,  where  he  saw 
a  strange  and  instructive  side  of  life  ;  and  later  he  was 
his  father's  fellow-traveller  on  a  journey  into  Germany 
and  a  long  sojourn  in  the  Friuli,  where  he  constantly 
enriched  himself  with  curious  experiences,  whatever 
were  his  fathers  gains. 

There  must  have  heen  large  numbers  of  Italians  in 
the  eighteenth  century  who  did  not  enjoy  themselves, 
but  wherever  you  find  them  in  memoirs  they  seem  to 
be  having  the  best  of  times  :  eating,  drinking,  singing, 
gaming,  masking,  making  love  right  and  left  ;  there 
is  apparently  no  end  to  their  pleasures.  This  is  the 
impression  of  Italian  life  that  remains  in  one's  mind 
from  Groldoni's  recollections  of  his  light-hearted  youth. 
They  have  theatricals  in  all  the  houses  where  he  vis- 
its ;  and  he  who  began  manager  in  his  childhood  with 
a  puppet-show  is  naturally  turned  to  dramatic  account 
in  those  cheerful  palaces.  Wherever  he  goes,  now 
with  his  father,  or  later,  when  lie  passes  from  one  city 
to  another  on  his  own  changing  occasions,  lie  has 
nothing  to  do  but  to  amuse  and  to  be  amused.  If  it  is 
in  the  Venetian  dependencies,  Ik-  calls  upon  the  patri- 
cian governor,  and  stays  at  least  two  weeks  witli  him  ; 
if  it  is  in  distant  countries  like  Milan  or  Modena  or 
Parma,  he  is  the  guest  of  tie-  Serenest  Republic's  en- 
voy,—  an  envoy  with  no  more  to  do  than  an  Amer- 
ican minister,  except  to  be  gay,   to  be  profuse,  to  be 


10  CAELO    GOLDONI. 

elegant,  to  ornament  society,  and  to  patronize  the 
bowing  and  obsequious  arts.  What  a  charming  epoch  ! 
Life  is  everywhere  a  party  of  pleasure.  There  is  a  cer- 
tain journey  of  Goldoni's  (in  one  of  his  college  vaca- 
tions), down  the  Po  and  over  the  lagoon  to  Chiozza, 
which  strikes  one  even  at  this  distance  of  time  and 
space  with  intolerable  envy  :  ten  young  gentlemen  and 
their  servants,  in  a  luxuriously  appointed  barge,  drift- 
ing idly  down  the  current,  and  nowise  concerned  about 
arriving  anywhere.  They  all,  save  Goldoni,  play 
upon  some  instrument,  and  he,  who  cannot  play,  can 
rhyme  the  incidents  of  the  voyage.  The  peasants  for- 
sake their  fields  and  flocks  as  the  happy  voyagers  pass, 
and  crowd  the  banks  of  the  stream;  when  the  en- 
chanted barge  halts  at  night  near  some  town  the  citi- 
zens throng  it  with  invitations  to  every  sort  of  gayety; 
the  nobles  from  their  villas  send  hospitably  to  arrest 
the  wanderers  ;  it  is  a  long  progress  of  delight,  under 
skies  forever  blue,  among  shores  forever  green.  All, 
to  have  been  young  and  rich  and  well-born  in  that  day  ! 
Or  to  have  been  a  Venetian  office-holder  in  times 
when  the  government  was  the  affair  of  the  rich  and 
amiable  patrician  families  who  had  the  taste  to  choose 
such  friends  as  young  Goldoni,  and  to  make  their 
work  agreeable  to  them!  The  reader  must  go  to  his 
autobiography  for  the  account  of  the  prolonged  picnic 
of  young  gentlemen  and  ladies  who  followed  the  chan- 
cellor's coadjutor  Goldoni  into  the  woods  of  Felt  re  to 
stay  the  depredations  upon  the  government  timber. 
The  expedition  proved  almost  fatal  to  Goldoni's  peace  ; 
for  he  tells  you  how  he  fell  in  love  with  one  of  the 
young  ladies,  and  how  "curiously"  he  reasoned  him- 
self out  of  the  imprudence  of  making  her  his  wife  by 
considering,  Italian-like,  that    if  the  fatigues  of  the 


CARLO   GOLDONL  11 

journey  had  so  great  effect  upon  her,  she  would  fade 
and  age  early,  and  so  leave  him  to  despair  ! 

It  is  hard  to  realize  that  all  this  junketing  goes  on 
amidst  pretty  continual  fighting.  Spaniards  and  Aus- 
trians  and  Frenchmen  are  always  down  there  in  Italy 
cutting  one  another's  throats,  and  every  now  and  then 
interrupting  with  a  siege  or  a  battle  the  Italian  party 
of  pleasure.  The  Italians  take  the  interruption  as 
philosophically  as  they  can,  and  as  soon  as  the  dead 
are  buried  and  the  fires  put  out  go  on  with  their  amuse- 
ments as  before.  Of  course  a  man  predestined  to  write 
comedy  must  often  be  taken  at  a  disadvantage  by 
these  wars,  and  Gold,  mi's  memoirs  owe  some  of  their 
most  entertaining  chapters  to  his  misadventures  among 
combatants  with  whom  personally  and  nationally  he 
was  at  peace.  The  republic  of  Venice  had  long  main- 
tained her  neutrality  (though  her  territory  was  violated 
at  will  by  the  belligerents)  amidst  the  ever-renewed 
hostilities  of  the  barbarians  who  fought  out  their  quar- 
rels on  Italian  ground,  and  she  did  not  meddle  with 
that  brief  war  which  the  Cardinal  Fleury  and  the  Em- 
peror Charles  VI.  set  going  between  them  about  the 
Pragmatic  Sanction  and  the  election  of  the  Polish 
king  in  1729.  It  all  resulted  in  the  succession  of  Maria 
Theresa  to  the  Imperial  throne,  in  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Spanish  Bourbons  in  Naples,  and  the 
house  of  Lorraine  in  Tuscany;  but  in  the  mean  time 
Groldoni,  being  a  Venetian,  had  not  even  the  tempered 
interest  in  the  war  of  those  Italians  whom  its  event 
was  to  give  this  master  or  that.  One  fine  morning, 
being  now  attached  to  the  Venetian  embassy  in  Milan, 
he  is  roused  by  his  servant  with  the  news  that  the  city 
is  in  the  hands  of  the  Sardinians,  who  have  joined  the 
French  and  Spanish  side.     This  is  annoying  to  a  gen- 


12  CARLO   GOLDONI. 

tleman  who  has  already  so  far  entered  upon  a  literary 
career  as  to  have  written  an  unsuccessful  opera  (there 
is  nothing  more  Gil-Blas-like  than  his  account  of  how 
the  singers  laugh  it  to  scorn),  but  Goldoni  is  above 
everything  cheerful,  and  he  retires  uncomplainingly 
with  the  embassy  to  Crema,  to  be  out  of  the  way  of 
the  bombardment  of  the  Milanese  citadel;  and  from 
Crema  he  shortly  afterwards  goes  to  Parma,  where, 
standing  on  the  city  wall,  he  witnesses  the  once  famous 
battle  of  that  name.  The  next  day  he  sees  the  dead, 
twenty  thousand  men,  stripped  naked  over  night,  and 
strewn  in  infinite  shapes  of  mutilation  and  horror  over 
the  field  ;  and,  having  by  this  time  resigned  his  office 
under  the  Venetian  envoy,  he  gladly  quits  Parma  for 
the  territories  of  the  republic. 

Never  were  misfortunes  more  blithely  narrated  than 
those  which  beset  him  on  this  journey.  He  is  first  of 
all  things  an  author,  aud  you  shall  read  in  his  memoirs 
how,  amidst  these  scenes  of  violence  and  carnage,  he 
has  been  industriously  contriving  a  play:  his  Belisa- 
rius,  which  he  carries  with  him  in  his  pocket,  and 
which  he  reads  aWd  to  his  travelling  companion,  a 
young  abbé  of  literary  taste,  as  they  drive  along  in 
their  carriage  through  a  country  infested  by  camp  fol- 
lowers, deserters  from  either  host,  and  desperadoes  of 
every  sort.  Suddenly  brigands  appear,  and  stop  at  once 
the  carriage  and  the  reading  of  Belisarius  ;  the  liter- 
ary gentlemen  are  glad  to  escape  with  their  lives. 
Towards  nightfall  Goldoni  encounters  some  kindly 
peasants  at  work  in  the  field  ;  they  take  pity  on  him, 
give  him  to  eat  and  drink",  and  bring  him  to  their  good 
curé  in  the  village.  The  curé  is  a  man  of  culture; 
Goldoni  mentions  his  play,  the  curé  makes  him  a  little 
dinner,  and  he  reads  his  blessed  Belisarius  (which  has 


CARLO    GOLDONI.  13 

remained  safe  from  the  rapacity  of  the  brigands)  to  his 
host  and  two  other  applausive  abbés!  What  is  ad- 
versity after  all,  then  ?  A  matter  of  individual  tem- 
perament, of  race  ? 

Goldoni  repairs  to  Venice,  and  he  does  not  again 
quit  that  soft  and  safe  retreat  for  ten  years,  during 
which  he  establishes  his  fame.  But  at  the  end  of  that 
time,  his  destiny  takes  him  into  the  fighting  once  more; 
his  old  friends,  the  Frenchmen,  the  Sardinians,  the 
Spaniards,  the  Austrians,  are  all  at  it  as  usual.  They 
are  all  civil  to  the  pleasant  dramatist,  however,  and 
treat  him  handsomely  when  he  gets  into  trouble,  and 
he  duly  turns  his  adventures  to  account  in  comedy,  with 
unfailing  enjoyment  of  their  absurdity. 

Goldoni,  indeed,  would  not  have  been  the  cunning 
worker  in  human  nature  that  he  was,  if  he  had  not 
seen  his  own  errors  and  their  consequences  with  an 
impartial  eye.  Somewhere  in  his  comedies  you  will 
find  every  one  of  them  used,  with  more  or  less  dis- 
guise, —  usually  less.  He  knew  quite  well  that  he  was 
himself  an  amusing  character,  but  for  all  that  he  recog- 
nized his  serious  obligations  to  the  race,  and  he  kept  a 
much  livelier  conscience,  literary  and  moral,  than  most 
people  of  his  world.  Certain  things,  as  gaming  and 
intriguing,  he  was  forced  practically  to  blink  in  himself 
as  well  as  others,  such  being  the  fashion  of  his  age; 
but  he  wrote  comedies  in  which  the  career  of  the  gam- 
bler was  painted  in  its  true  odors,  and  he  helped  ridi- 
cule the  cavalier  servent  out  of  existence.  He  seem- 
to  have  been  tenderly  attached  to  his  wife,  who  returned 
his  love  with  interest;  in  a  society  devoured  by  debts 
he  abhorred  debt,  and  amidst  envies,  baekbitings,  and 
jealousies  of  every  kind  he  kept  a  heart  uncorroded  by 
hatred  and  full  of  generous  friendship. 


14  CARLO   GOLDONL 

He  was  curiously  limited  in  his  satirical  scope.  In 
Venice  he  could  not  paint  a  dissolute  or  wicked  noble, 
or  indeed  put  upon  the  stage  a  Venetian  noble  of  any 
sort;  his  nobles,  therefore,  were  ostensibly  of  the  in- 
ferior, titled  sort  from  the  mainland.  He  might  not  so 
much  as  name  a  convent  in  comedy  ;  any  young  lady 
immured  in  a  nunnery  must  be  mentioned  as  being  u  at 
the  house  of  an  aunt,"  and  of  course  the  vices  and  follies 
of  the  clergy  were  sacred  from  his  touch.  He  drew  his 
characters  from  the  citizen  class  chiefly,  but  often  with 
great  effect  from  the  lowest  of  the  people.  Within  the 
bounds  set  him  he  painted  the  Venice  of  his  time  so 
gracefully,  so  vividly,  so  truly,  with  so  much  more  of. 
the  local  human  nature  than  of  the  mere  manners  of  the 
age,  that  his  plays  mirror  in  wonderful  degree  the  Venice 
of  our  own  day. 

Xo  author  ever  wrote  more  purposely  and  directly 
for  the  theatre  than  Goldoni  ;  in  this,  at  least,  be  was 
Shakespearian.  He  may  be  said  to  have  always  known 
the  stage  ;  his  acquaintance  with  players  began  when 
he  ran  away  from  school  with  the  strollers  from  Rimini, 
and  it  continued  all  his  life.  When  he  began  seriously 
to  write  comedy  it  was  for  a  company  of  which  he  actu- 
ally formed  a  part,  and  he  studied  his  actors  and  kept 
them  as  constantly  in  view  as  the  persons  of  his  drama. 
His  observation  was  from  the  world  at  large  ;  when  he 
had  discovered  or  imagined  a  character  he  trained  his 
players  to  his  own  conception  of  it.  Often  he  wrote  a 
part  especially  for  some  comedian;  sometimes  lie  por- 
trayed the  characters  of  his  actors  in  the  play,  and  he 
knew  how  to  avenge  himself  for  their  obstinacies,  ca- 
prices, and  jealousies  by  good-natured  satire  of  their 
recognizable  qualities. 

His  material  lay  in  himself  and  everywhere  about 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  15 

him  in  the  Venice  which  he  knew  so  well.  There  his 
genius  seemed  to  prosper  most  ;  although,  he  wrote 
brilliant  plays  elsewhere,  and  lived  to  give  the  French 
stage  a  comedy  that  had  a  prompt  and  (as  those  things 
go)  enduring  success,  Venice  was  the  scene  of  his 
greatest  triumphs,  There  for  many  years  he  continued 
to  produce  one  play  after  another  with  almost  uninter- 
rupted good  fortune,  while  elsewhere  his  inspiration 
was  fitful  and  uncertain.  The  best  of  his  hundred  and 
fifty  comedies  are  those  in  the  soft  speech  of  the  lagoons  ; 
the  next  best  are  those  Italian  plays  of  which  the  scene 
is  laid  in  Venice. 

They  are  simple  affairs  as  to  plot,  but  their  move- 
ment is  very  spirited.  The  dialogue  is  always  brisk, 
with  a  droll,  natural,  sarcastic  humor  in  it  that  smacks 
of  the  popular  life;  it  is  rarely  witty,  —perhaps  there 
is  not  a  memorably  witty  passage  m  all  his  plays  ; 
there  is  no  eloquence,  and  not  often  anything  like 
pathos,  though  now  and  then  amidst  the  prevailing- 
good  spirits  of  his  comedy  there  are  touches  of  real 
tenderness.  His  art  is  extremely  good  ;  the  plays  are 
well  contrived.  There  are  few  long  speeches;  the 
soliloquies  and  the  asides  are  few  ;  there  are  seldom 
explanations  or  narrative  statements  ;  the  sympathetic 
spectator  is  briefly  possessed  of  the  situation  by  the 
dialogue;  the  rest  is  left  to  his  patience,  which  is 
never  heavily  taxed,  and  to  his  curiosity,  which  is  duly 
piqued.  I  find  the  same  sort  of  pleasure  in  reading 
Groldoni's  comedies  as  in  seeing  them  played;  though 
in  reading,  the  baldness  of  the  morality  is,  of  course, 
more  apparent.  One  ought  not  to  smile  at  this  mo- 
rality, however,  without  remembering  the  aire,  the 
religion,  and  the  race  to  which  it  was  addressed:  to 
these  some  very  elementary  principles  might  have 
seemed   novel. 


16  CABLO   GOLDONI. 

I  do  not  know  how  often  Molière  is  still  played  in 
France,  but  in  Italy,  and  especially  in  Venice,  Guidon i 
has  his  regular  seasons,  and  holds  his  place  upon  the 
stage  as  firmly  as  Shakespeare,  with  whom  he  is  not 
otherwise  comparable  :  he  was,  as  I  have  said,  no  poet. 
All  his  countrymen  are  agreed  as  to  the  vast,  the 
unique  value  of  his  theatre  in  their  literature.  "  To 
say  Goldoni  is  to  say  Italian  comedy,"  writes  Torelli 
in  a  paper  on  the  dramatist  in  his  Passaggi  e  Profili. 
"The  severe  critic  who,  in  speaking  of  the  gifts  of  this 
famous  man,  would  hold  him  to  strict  account  for  his 
many  defects  cannot  dispute  the  common  voice  which  has 
pronounced  the  Venetian  humorist  the  father  and  the  re- 
storer of  comedy.  Goldoni,  like  all  illustrious  authors,  has 
had  his  impassioned  detractors,  his  impassioned  apolo- 
gists :  they  have  fought  over  his  fame,  for  and  against  ; 
they  have  discussed  the  marvellous  subtlety  of  his  dia- 
logue and  the  poverty  of  his  diction.  But  the  true  judges 
of  Goldoni  were  not  the  detractors,  nor  the 'apologists, 
nor  the  commentators,  nor  the  libellers  ;  his  true  judges 
were  the  people  in  the  pit,  the  spectators  surprised  by  the 
truth  of  the  characters  which  he  had  studied  from  life, 
and  struck  by  the  aptness  of  the  sallies  and  replies, 
which  they  had  felt  stirring  in  their  own  minds  before 
the  persons  of  the  play  had  uttered  them.  The  worth 
of  Goldoni  consists  in  the  material  truth,  so  to  speak, 
of  his  action,  apparently  expressed  as  it  comes  to  hand, 
but  really  sought  out  witli  study  and  artifice."  The 
praise  of  Emiliani-Giudici  is  as  cordial  and  as  just,  if 
not  so  subtile:  "  Xo  one  painted  better  than  he  the 
life  that  served  him  for  a  model,  taught  morality  with 
urbaner  satire,  invented  dramatic  situations  with  greater 
art,  showed  greater  fertility.  C'esarott.i,  a  fervent  ad- 
mirer of  French  literature,  compares  him  to  "Molière, 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  17 

and  declares  that  if  Goldoni  had  had  more  leisure  for 
study,  and  could  have  meditated  arid  finished  his  pro- 
ductions with  more  affectionate  care,  he  might  have 
boasted  a  greater   number  of  masterpieces,  and  have 

been  the  first  comic  dramatist  of  the  world Gol- 

doni  himself  laments  the  fate  that  forced  him  to  work 
at  such  a  breakneck  rate.  In  one  year  he  promised 
and  composed  sixteen  comédies.  Nearly  all  his  pro- 
ductions, therefore,  lack  that  final  touch  by  which  a 
writer  frees  his  work  from  the  inevitable  redundancies 
of  the  first  sketch,  gives  the  material  greater  signifi- 
cance, balances  the  larger  and  the  lesser  parts,  and 
achieves  for  it  beauty  and  symmetry  as  a  -whole."  I 
am  bound  to  say  that  I  have  not  myself  felt  in  Goldoni 
that  want  of  finish  here  deplored,  except  a  certain  ten- 
dency to  tameness  and  coldness  in  the  conclusion  of 
some  of  his  plays.  Neither  should  I  agree  with  Cantù 
in  much  of  the  censure  which  he  mingles  with  his 
praise:  "Full  of  that  spirit  of  observation  and  imi- 
tation which  seizes  and  portrays  life,  he  reveals  char- 
acter, not  in  phrases  and  reflections,  but  in  situations 
an  I  in  contrasts;  and  not  character  strained  and  exag- 
gerated, but  mixed  and  average  as  we  see  it  in  society. 
He  obeys  his  own  knowledge  of  life  rather  than  the  re- 
quirements of  art,  but  his  observation  was  limited  to 

the  lower  classes,  whence  he  drew  trivial  persons 

Gondoliers,  servants,  dancers,  parasites,  adventurers, 
cicisbei,  usurers,  misers,  husbands  and  wives  of  the  pop-* 
ulace,  he  depicts  with  marvellous  fidelity,  ....  but 
not  the  patricians  in  their  refined  corruption,  nothing 
that  ennobles  sentiment  or  elevates  the  mind.  He 
neglected  his  diction,  and  when  he  did  not  use  his 
native  dialect  he  fell  into  an  incorrect,  common,  and 
pleading-lawyer's  Italian  ;    he  sins  in  useless  scenes. 


18  CARLO   GOLDONI. 

prolix  discourses,  scurrilous  allusions  ;  yet  no  one  sur- 
passes him  in  the  management  of  dialogue,  in  the 
naturalness  of  his  characters,  in  the  simplicity  of  his 
style!" 

One  can  hardly  blame  Goldoni  for  not  embroiling 
himself  with  the  government  by  attacking  the  Venetian 
nobles,  and  if  he  preferred  to  paint  the  common  life 
about  him  he  was  right  to  do  so  ;  in  matters  of  art  one 
must  do  what  one  likes  if  one  would  do  well.  As  for 
the  style,  it  is  so  much  better  to  be  graphie  and  simple 
than  to  be  irreproachable  that  even  the  Italian  world, 
which  really  suffer:-  from  an  inelegance  of  speech,  easily 
forgives  Goldoni's  negligent  diction;  the  f<  ireigrier  does 
not  feel  it.  To  elevate  the  mind  or  ennoble  the  senti- 
ments is  not  quite  the  comic  dramatist's  business;  on 
the  other  hand,  Goldoni  never  pandered  to  a  vicious 
taste,  in  morals  or  aesthetics.  His  comedies  are  pure 
in  surprising  degree  when  one  'thinks  of  the  contempo- 
rary English  stage  and  romance:  they  may  be  read,  for 
the  most  part,  with  as  little  offence  as  so  many  novels 
of  Dickens.  Now  and  then  he  girds  himself  up  to 
attack  some  social  abuse,  like  the  eicisbeo  system,  by 
which  every  fashionable  wife  had  her  conventional 
adorer,  recognized  in  that  quality  by  the  world  and  tol- 
erated by  the  husband.  It  was  a  silly  usage,  but  not 
so  often  wicked  as  might  be  thought.  Parini's  satire 
lashed  the  poor  cicisbei  in  Lombardy,  while  Goldoni 
laughed  at  them  in  Venice  :  but  it  must  have  cost  the 
dramatist  more  to  be  virtuous  against  them,  for  he  was 
a  social  creature,  liking  best  to  please  every  one,  and 
fond  of  the  gay  and  fine  world.  He  gently  complains 
of  the  enmities  his  ridicule  of  the  cicisbei  excited  against 
him. 

The  reader  of  his   memoirs  will  be  interested    and 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  19 

perhaps  amused  to  find  Goldoni  defending  the  Prot- 
estants from  the  insult  offered  them  in  a  dramatic 
lampoon  upon  himself,  and  actually  procuring  its  sup- 
pression on  the  ground  of  its  offensiveness  to  the  am- 
bassadors of  many  friendly  powers  resident  in  Venice, 
where  indeed  foreign  Protestantism  had  eujoyed  perfect 
immunity  ever  since  the  times  of  Luther.  But  it  is 
really  not  fair  to  judge  this  sweet  and  kindly  spirit  as  a 
moralist  or  a  reformer  of  any  sort  e.xcept  in  his  own 
proper  world  of  comedy.  Here  he  was  bold,  strenuous, 
and  untiring,  and  he  succeeded  in  firmly  establishing 
the  Italian  comic  drama  against  the  popular  taste  and 
the  power  of  the  vested  interests. 

Of  course  there  were  Italians  who  wrote  true  comedy 
before  Goldoni:  there  were  Ariosto  and  Machiavelli,  t<> 
name  no  others,  but  their  plays  were  not  played,  and 
there  was  no  body  of  national  comedy  at  all  answering 
to  that  of  the  French  or  English.  There  were  imita  - 
t<  >rs  of  the  French  and  imitators  of  the  Spanish  school 
of  comedy,  and  there  was  a  sort  of  comic  spectacle,  full 
of  supernatural  prodigies  and  fanciful  extravagances, 
which  was  in  high  favor.  But  the  national  spirit  found 
expression  chiefly  in  the  so-called  comedy  of  art,  which 
had  the  strongest  hold  upon  the  popular  affection  ;  and 
Goldoni  supplanted  this  by  the  sort  of  conquest  which 
seems  to  compromise  and  even  to  concede;  with  the 
French  and  Spanish  schools,  with  the  spectacular 
drama,  he  never  pretended  to  make  terms. 

The  comedy  of  art  was  simply  the  outline  of  an 
action  supplied  to  the  players.  The  characters  in 
every  plot  were  drawn  from  the  same  stock:  Panta- 
lone;  Arlecchino,  Brighella,  Truffaldino,  II  Dottore, 
Colombina,  Corallina,  and  other  inferior  masks,  and 
the  dialogue  was  the  inspiration  of  tUe  actors;  it  was 


20  CARLO   GOLDOXI. 

very  good  or  very  bad  according  to  their  ability,  and  it 
could  not  have  been  possible  to  a  race  with  less  genius 
for  improvisation  than  the  Italians.  Some  of  these 
masks  were  of  vast  antiquity,  like  Pantaloon  and 
Harlequin  ;  the  others  dated  back  three  or  four  centu- 
ries. Arlecchino,  Brighella,  Truffaldino,  Corallina, 
and  Colombina  are  always  servants  or  people  of  low 
degree  ;  they  have  severally  their  conventional  traits 
of  slyness  and  stupidity,  as  immutable  as  the  dresses 
or  masks  in  which  they  appear.  Arlecchino  and  Bri- 
ghella are  by  immemorial  attribution  natives  of  Ber- 
gamo, and  speak  the  quaint  dialect  of  their  city  ;  they 
are  both  rogues,  but  the  former  is  usually  the  prey 
of  the  latter.  Colombina  and  Corallina  are  equally 
wicked  jades,  and  are  almost  convertible  characters. 
They  "  know  the  defects  of  women  in  general,  and  of 
their  mistress  in  particular.  Colombina  or  Corallina, 
whichever  it  is,  is  from  eighteen  to  twenty-five  years 
of  age.  She  is  pretty  just  short  of  wounding  the  van- 
ity of  her  mistress  ;  she  knows  by  heart  the  swoons, 
vapors,  caprices,  tastes,  of  the  lady  whom  she  has  the 
advantage  to  serve.  When  she  comes  into  her  cham- 
ber in  the  morning  and  hears  the  call,  'My  dear  Co- 
lombina !  '  she  instantly  foresees  a  day  of  convulsive 
attacks,  emotional  prostration,  of  tears,  and  of  confi- 
dences. If  the  lady  is  old,  Corallina  makes  fun  of  her 
behind  her  back,  and  flatters  her  to  her  face  ;  tells  the 
whole  neighborhood  of  her  artificial  pretences,  her  un- 
speakable follies.  If  she  is  young,  she  aids  her  with 
embassies,  with  advice  ;  or  else  —  and  then  the  case  is 
terrible  —  she  opposes  her  in  everything,  and  makes 
her  really  unhappy." 

Pantalone  dei  Bisognosi  is  always  a  Venetian  mer- 
the  dress  and  the  Ions;  beard  of  his 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  21 

class  and  city  in  the  Middle  Ages.  He  is  true,  just, 
punctiliously  honest  :  a  wise  head  and  a  soft  heart  : 
usually  his  son  is  a  reprobate,  and  costs  him  much 
anxiety  and  money  before  he  turns  from  his  evil  ways 
at  the  end  of  the  comedy. 

II  Dottore  Bacchettone  is  of  the  learned  city  of 
Bergamo;  he  is  dressed  in  black,  and  lias  a  great  wine 
stain  on  his  face.  Generally  it  is  his  business  in  the 
Goldonian  comedy  to  be  the  friend  and  correspondent 
of  Pantalone,  and  the  father  of  the  lover  or  heroine  of 
the  play. 

Goldoni  wrote  some  hundred  and  fifty  comedies,  and 
in  quite  half  of  them?  I  think,  these  standard  charac- 
ters appear.  Every  company  had  actors  and  actn 
identified  with  the  parts,  and  it  was  the  dramatist's 
difficult  task  to  preserve  enoiïgu"  of  the  traditional  to 
keep  them  recognizably  the  same,  while  constantly  in- 
flecting and  varying  them  to  give  novelty  to  the  action 
and  meet  the  exigency  of  the  plot  He  was  obliged 
to  adopt  the  masks  while  supplying  a  complete  play 
instead  of  the  outline  of  the  comedy  of  art,  which  he 
was  seeking  to  supplant  in  the  popular  affections. 
His  success  was  sL>w  and  fitful.  From  time  to  time 
he  was  Ibrced  to  give  his  players  outlines;  even  so 
late  as  his  sojourn  in  Paris,  we  find  him  supplying 
these  skeleton  dramas  to  the  Italian  company  with 
which  he  was  connected.  But  without  doubt  it  was 
Goldoni  who  extinguished  the  comedy  of  art,  and 
created  for  the  Italians  not  only  a  real  comedy,  hut  the 
taste  to  enjoy  it,  though  the  impulse  in  that  direction 
had  been  given  from  time  to  time  long  before  his  day, 
and  once  by  tin-  good  San  Carlo  Borroineo, — a  saint 
who  scarcely  needed  canonization.  ''One  Flaminio 
Scala/'  writes  Torelli,   '"head  of  a  company  of  play- 


22  CARLO   GOLDOXI. 

ers,  following  the  example  of  the  ancient  art,  began  to 
give  his  pieces  unity  and  form  ;  he  began  to  write  out 
notes  and  take  them  into  the  theatre,  showing  the  plot 
of  the  action,  and  explaining  what  each  actor  should 
do  upon  the  scene,  the  idea  by  which  he  should  be 
guided  in  improvising,  and  of  what  nature  the  buf- 
fooneries of  Harlequin  should  he.  Scala  was  praised 
to  the  skies,  and  proclaimed  illustrious  by  all  Milan. 
The  times  were  rather  shameless:  this  brave  com- 
pany, seeing  themselves  every  day  higher  in  favor 
with  the  Milanese,  loosed  the  rein  of  modesty,  and  let 
their  tongues  wag  at  will.  San  Carlo  Borromeo 
called  them  before  him,  and,  having  thoroughly  re- 
buked them  all,  especially  Harlequin,  forbade  them  to 
play  anything  more  without  first  submitting  the  action 
to  the  censorship.  '  But  if  we  should  happen  to  im- 
provise something!'  cried  Scala,  meekly.  'Write  out 
the  play  first,  and  you  will  avoid  that,'  replied  the 
archbishop.  And  perhaps  from  this  point  began  the 
abolition  of  the  comedy  of  art,  and  the  regular  comedy 
had  more  studious  followers." 

Nevertheless,  the  honor  is  Goldoni's  of  having  cre- 
ated the  regular  comedy  without  lo.sing  the  charm  of 
the  old,  for  there  is  a  very  great  charm  in  the  constant 
recurrence  of  the  familiar  faces  of  Pantalone,  Arlec- 
chino,  Brighella,  TrufFaldino,  Colombina,  and  Coral- 
lina  in  the  perpetually  varied  action  and  circumstance 
of  his  plays.  When  oner  you  have  entered  into  their 
spirit,  it  is  delightful  to  find  that  the  lover  is  always 
Florindo,  and  that  his  mistress  is  always  Eosaura  ;  it 
is  like  meeting  those  people  whom  some  novelists 
have  the  fancy  of  making  reappear  tnrough  all  their 
fictions,  and  there  is  a  sort  of  convenience  in  it  for  the 
lazy  imagination.     I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  all  of 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  23 

Goldoni's  comedies  are  restricted  in  their  range  of 
character  to  these  personages;  great  hampers  of  them 
entirely  depart  from  the  tradition  which-  these  keep  in 
view;  but  I  own  that  I  like  host  those  which  follow 
the  old  comedy  of  art  in  respect  to  their  dramatis  per- 
sonœ,  though  I  must  own  also  that  I  do  not  quite 
know  why. 

Goethe,  writing  from  Venice  in  1786,  describes  the 
performance  of  one  of  the  best  of  the  Gkridoniah  come- 
dies dealing  with  the  popular  life,  —  a  comedy  which 
is  still  sure  to  be  played  at  least  once  every  winter  in 
Venice  :  — 

••  Yesterday,  at  the  theatre  of  St.  Luke,  was  per- 
formed Le  Bàruffe-Chiozotte,  which  I  should  interpret 
the  Frays  and  Feuds  of  Chiozza.  The  dramatis  per- 
sona are  principally  seafaring  people,  inhabitants  of 
Chiozza,  with  their  wives,  sisters,  and  daughters.  The 
usual  noisy  démonstratif »ns  of  such  sort  of  people  in 
their  good  or  ill  luck,  —  their  dealings  one  with  an- 
other, their  vehemence,  but  goodness  of  heart,  common- 
place remarks  and  unaffected  manners,  their  naïve  wit 
and  humor,  —  all  this  was  excellently  imitated.  The 
piece,  moreover,  is  Goldoni's,  and  as  I  had  been  only 
the  day  before  in  the  place  itself,  and  as  the  tones  and 
manners  of  the  sailors  and  people  of  the  seaport  still 
echoed  in  my  ears  and  floated  before  my  eyes,  it  de- 
lighted me  very  much,  ami  although  I  did  not  under- 
stand a  single  allusion,  T  was  nevertheless,  on  the 
whole,  able  to  follow -it  pretty  well.  I  will  now  give 
you  the  plan  of  the  piece:  it  opens  with  the  females 
of  Chiozza  sitting,  as  usual,. on  the  strand  before  their 
cabins,  spinning,  mending  nets,  sewing,  or  making 
lace;  a  youth  passes  by,  and  notices  one  of  them  with 
a  more  friendly  greeting  than  the  rest.     Immediately 


24  CARLO   GOLDOXI. 

the  joking  begins,  and  observes  no  bounds  ;  becom- 
ing tarter  and  tarter,  and  growing  ill-tempered,  it  soon 
bursts  out  into  reproaches  :  abuse  vies  with  abuse  ;  in 
the  midst  of  all,  one  dame,  more  vehement  than  the 
rest,  bounces  out  with  the  truth  ;  and  now  an  endless 
din  of  scolding,  railing,  and  screaming  ;  there  is  no 
lack  of  more  decided  outrage,  and  at  last  the  peace 
officers  are  compelled  to  interfere. 

"  The  second  act  opens  with  the  Court  of  Justice.  In 
the  absence  of  the  podestà  (who  as  a  noble  could  not 
lawfully  be  brought  upon  the  stage)  the  actuarius  pre- 
sides. He  orders  the  women  to  be  brought  before  him 
one  by  one.  This  gives  rise  to  an  interesting  scene. 
It  happens  that  this  official  personage  is  himself  enam- 
ored of  the  first  of  the  combatants  who  is  brought  be- 
fore him.  Only  too  happy  to  have  an  opportunity  of 
speaking  with  her  alone,  instead  of  hearing  what  she 
has  to  say  on  the  matter  in  question,  he  makes  her  a 
declaration  of  love.  In  the  midst  of  it  a  second  woman, 
who  is  herself  in  love  with  the  actuary,  in  a  fit  of  jeal- 
ousy rushes  in,  aud  with  her  the  suspicious  lover  of  the 
first  damsel,  who  is  followed  by  all  the  rest  ;  and  now 
the  same  demon  of  confusion  riots  in  the  court  as  a 
little  before  had  set  at  loggerheads  the  people  of  the 
harbor.  In  the  third  act  the  fan  gets  more  and  more 
boisterous,  and  the  whole  ends  with  a  hasty  and  pooT 
dénoûment.  The  happiest  thought,  however,  of  the 
whole  piece  is  a  character  who  is  thus  drawn  :  an  old 
sailor,  who,  from  the  hardships  he  has  been  exposed  to 
from  his  childhood,  trembles  and  falters  in  all  his  limbs, 
and  even  in  his  very  organs  of  speech,  is  brought  on 
the  scene  to  serve  as  a  foil  to  this  restless,  screaming, 
and  jabbering  crew.  Before  he  can  utter  a  word,  he 
has  to  make  a  long  preparation  by  a  slow  twitching  of 


CAELO    GOLDOXI.  25 

his  lips,  and  an  assistant  motion  of  his  hands  and  arms  ; 
at  last  he  blurts  out  what  his  thoughts  are  on  the  mat- 
ter in  dispute.  But  as  he  can  only  nonage  to  do  this 
in  very  short  sentences,  he  acquires  thereby  a  sort  of 
laconic  gravity,  so  that  all  he  utters  sounds  like  an 
adage  or  maxim  ;  and  in  this  way  a  happy  contrast  is 
afforded  to  the  wild  and  passionate  exclamations  of  the 
other  personages. 

"  But  even  as  it  was,  I  never  witnessed  anything 
like  the  noisy  delight  the  people  evinced  at  seeing 
themselves  and  their  mates  represented  with  such  truth 
of  nature.     It  was  <>nc  continued  laugh  and  tumultuous 

shout  of  exultation  from  beginning  to  end Great 

praise  is  due  to  the  author,  who  out  of  nothing  has  hero 
created  the  most  amusing  divertissement.  However,  he 
never  could  have  done  it  with  any  other  people  than 
his  own  merry  and  light-hearted  countrymen." 

There  could  be  no  better  analysis  of  a  Goldonian 
play  than  this,  nor  more  satisfactory  testimony  to  the 
favor  the  dramatist  enjoyed  among  his  own  people. 
Yet  it  is  said  that  Goldoni  was  at  last  glad  to  quit 
Venice  because  of  the  displeasures  he  suffered  from  the 
success  of  a  rival  dramatist,  Carlo  Gozzi.  This  writer 
carried  to  the  last  excess  the  principle  of  the  spectacular 
drama,  which  Goldoni  abhorred,  and  his  popularity 
must  have  been  sorely  vexatious  ;  but  our  author,  win» 
is  commonly  very  frank  about  his  motives,  does  not 
hint  at  any  such  reason  foT  his  expatriation.  Those 
were  the  grand  and  courtly  times  when  a  prince,  having 
a  fancy  for  this  or  that  artist,  could  send  through  his 
ambassador  and  "  demand"  him  of  his  native  govern- 
ment. Fmni  time  to  time  members  of  Goldoni's  com- 
pany were  demanded  by  foreign  powers  :  at  last  he  was 
himself  demanded  of  the  republic  by  the  King  of  France. 


26  CARLO   GOLDOXI. 

Quite  the  same,  of  course,  he  was  master  to  stay  at 
home  if  he  liked,  but  he  preferred  to  accede  to  the  de- 
maud  aud  to  go  for  two  years  to  the  great  city,  then  as 
now  the  ceutre  of  artistic  aspiration,  whither  his  fame 
had  preceded  him.  He  lived  in  Paris  the  rest  of  his 
days.  He  often  thought  of  returning  to  Venice,  but  as 
often  was  helpless  to  tear  himself  from  the  delights  of 
Paris,  —  the  charms  of  Parisian  society,  the  quick  and 
constant  succession  of  novelties  in  science,  literature, 
and  art,  the  exquisite  playing  at  the  theatres,  —  all,  in 
a  word,  that  could  allure  a  man  of  hue  taste  and  light 
temperament.  Of  light  temperament  Goldoni  un- 
doubtedly was,  and  as  such  he  was  a  true  son  of  his 
century.  It  is  amusing,  in  his  memoirs,  to  observe 
how  unconscious  he  is  of  any  brooding  change  which 
was  to  involve  the  destinies  ot  the  agreeable  great  folk 
with  whom  his  let  was  cast  :  the  princesses  whom  he 
taught  Italian,  the  king  whom  he  was  brought  to  Paris 
to  amuse,  the  elegant  court  of  which  he  modestly 
firmed  a  part.  He  laments  the  death  of  the  cold- 
hearted  debauchee  Louis  XV.  as  if  he  had  been  really 
the  well  beloved  of  his  people  ;  he  devoutly  rejoices 
over  the  nuptials  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette 
and  the  birth  of  their  children  as  if  the  kingship  were 
to  go  on  forever;  and  he  makes  no  sign,  amidst  his 
comments  on  French  society,  of  any  knowledge  of  an 
impending  and  very  imminent  French  revolution.  It 
must  be  owned  that  republicans  have  always  taken 
very  kindly  to  foreign  monarchs  :  the  Swiss  have  been 
the  stay  of  several  tottering  despots  ;  the  Americans 
were  the  most  loathsome  admirers  and  flatterers  of  the 
Second  Emperor.  Poor  Goldoni  was  in  raptures  — 
that  is  the  truth  —  with  French  royalty  aud  all  that 
belonged  to  it,  and  probably  no  man  in  France  was 


CARLO    GOLDONI.  27 

more  astonished  when  the  Revolution  swept  everything 

of  that  sort  away.  He  had  a  pension  of  four  thousand 
francs  from  the  king,  which  went  with  jhe  other  pen- 
sions when  the  civil  list  was  abolished,  and  so  Goldoni 
fell  into  extreme  poverty]  and  sickness  followed  upon 
his  deprivations.  Then  the  poet  Chénier  rose  one  day 
in  the  convention,  and  making-  these  faets  known  asked 
the  restitution  of  Groldoni's  pension,  which  was  voted 
by  a  great  majority:  and  an  annuity  of  twelve  hundred 
francs  was  continued  to  his  widow  after  his  death,  which 
took  place  five  years  later,  when  he  was  eighty-six 
years  old. 

No  kindlier  creature  seems  ever  to  have  lived,  and 
he  had  traits  of  genuine  modesty  that  made  him  truly 
lovable.  He  never  would  suffer  himself  to  he  compared 
with  Molière:  he  meekly  howed  down  before  French 
geniuses  whom  the  world  lias  ceased,  if  not  to  adore, 
at  least  to  hear  of:  when  the  great  Count  Alfieri  calls 
upon  him  he  is  almost  overpowered  by  the  honor  the 
noble  tragic  author  docs  a  greater  man.  Nothing  can 
be  sweeter  than  the  courage  with  which  he  goes  to 
Diderot  (who,  having  plagiarized  one  of  Goldoni's  com- 
edies, spoke  ill  of  his  talent)  and  compels  his  detractor 
to  be  his  persona]  friend.  He  seems  to  have  kept  his 
temper  throughout  his  trials  and  vexations  in  Venice 
with  actors,  managers,  patrons,  and  spectators:  if  ever 
he  retaliate-  it  is  by  some  satire  which  they  join  him  in 
enjoying.  A  very  curious  chapter  of  these  troubl 
that  relating  to  the  printing  of  his  plays,  a  right  which 
the  manager,  Med. -bac  pretended  to  forbid  him,  and 
which  he  was  forced  to  assert  by  smuggling  into  Venice 
an  edition  printed  in  Florence.  But  all  that  part  of  his 
autobiography  relating  to  his  life  in  Italy  is  full  of  the 
quaintest  and  most  varied  experience,  and  it  make-  cl 


28  CARLO.  GOLDONI. 

whole  dead  world  live  again  :  a  world  of  small  ducal 
and  princely  courts  :  of  alien  camps  in  the  midst  of  a 
patient  and  peaceful  country  ;  of  strange  little  local 
jealousies  and  ambitions  ;  of  fantastic  and  conventional 
culture  fostered  by  a  thousand  and  one  academies  or 
literary  societies  (Goldoni  was  himself  a  shepherd  of 
that  famous  Arcadia  winch  was  the  first  of  these)  ;  of  a 
restricted  and  frivolous  intellectual  life  wasting  itself 
in  idle  disputations  and  trivial  brilliancy  :  of  a  social 
morality  amusingly  perverted,  and  yet  not  so  bad  as  it 
would  seem  to  a  wiser  condition  of  things,  though  fool- 
ishly bad,  without  doubt.  In  this  world  the  philoso- 
phies and  heresies  of  transalpine  Europe  seem  to  have 
no  root  ;  it  is  as  devout  as  it  is  gay;  the  church  directs 
its  culture  as  well  as  its  conscience,  —  one  might  almost 
say  its  vices  as  well  as  its  pleasures,  so  much  are  the 
clergy  and  the  whole  religious  profession  in  and  of 
that  world. 

When  Goldoni  gets  to  France  his  autobiography  is 
no  longer  so  charming.  His  delightful  spirit  indeed 
remains  unchanged,  but  it  does  not  deal  with  such  de- 
lightful material.  He  sets  down  much  concerning  Paris 
that  does  not  interest,  and,  as  I  have  hinted,  he  omits 
almost  everything  that  touches  the  grand  social  and  in- 
tellectual movement  of  the  time.  Perhaps  as  a  foreigner 
attached  to  the  court  he  could  not  see  this  :  but  he  felt 
too  deeply  the  greatness  and  fascination  of  the  French 
world  ever  to  leave  it  for  his  native  land.  He  was  full 
of  wonder  at  its  variety,  its  mental  liveliness,  and  its 
eagerness  for  every  soft  of  novelty,  and  the  closing 
chapters  of  his  memoirs  are  hardly  more  than  a  chron- 
icle of  such  marvels  as  ballooning,  walking  on  water, 
and  other  semi-scientific  inventions.  Ile  lias  much  to 
say  of  the  journals  of  Paris,  hut   not   much   of  value, 


CARLO  GOLDOXI. 


29 


and  he  does  not  seem  to  have  considered  their  great 
number  and  activity  as  the  prophecy  of  another  age 
and  another  order  of  tilings.  For  Goldcmi,  apparently, 
the  eighteenth  century  was  to  last  forever. 

It  is  mainly  in  this  part  of  his  autobiography  that  I 
have  freely  condensed  his  material.  Elsewhere  I  have 
struck  out  certain  passages,  but  these  contained  little 
that  was  necessary  to  a  complete  picture  of  the  man 
and  his  times.  In  the  course  of  his  memoirs  he  gives 
tedious  outlines  of  the  plots  of  his  comedies.  These 
I  have  nearly  always  omitted. 


AUTHOR'S    PREFACE. 


HE  life  of  every  author,  good  or  bad,  is  at  the 
head  of  his  works  or  in  the  memoirs  of  the 
time. 
The  life  of  a  man,  it  is  true,  ought  not  to 
appear  till  after  his  death  ;  but  do  these  posterior  por- 
traits bear  any  resemblance  to  the  originals?  If  they 
proceed  from  a  friend,  the  language  of  praise  is  not 
always  the  language  of  truth  ;  if  from  an  enemy,  satire 
is  too  often  substituted  for  criticism. 

My  life  is  not  interesting  ;  but  it  may  happen  that 
some  time  hereafter  a  collection  of  my  works  may  be 
found  in  the  corner  of  some  old  library.  This  will  per- 
haps excite  a  curiosity  to  know  something  of  the  singular 
man  who  undert<  k  »k  the  reformation  of  the  theatre  of  his 
country,  who  gave  to  the  stage  and  the  press  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  comedies  of  character  and  intrigue,  in 
prose  and  in  verse,  and  who  saw  eighteen  editions  of 
his  theatre  pnfifisEed  during  his  own  lifetime.  It  will 
be  undoubtedly  said.  "  This  man  must  have  been  very 
rich  ;  why  did  he  quk  his  country  f  "  Alas!  posterity 
must  be  informed  that  Croldoni  found  repose,  tranquil- 
lity, and  comfort  only  in  France,  and  that  he  finished 


32  author's  preface. 

his  career  by  a  French  comedy  which  had  the  good 
fortune  to  succeed  on  the  theatre  of  that  nation. 

I  thought  that  the  author  alone  could  give  a  certain 
and  satisfactory  idea  of  hisVharacter,  his  anecdotes,  and 
his  writings;  and  I  imagined  also,  that  by  publishing 
the  memoirs  of  his  life  in  his  own  lifetime,  if  their  ac- 
curacy was  not  challenged  by  his  contemporaries,  his 
veracity  might  be  relied  on  by  posterity. 

In  consequence  of  this  idea,  wheif  I  saw  in  1760, 
that  after  my  first  Florence  edition,  my  theatre  was  the 
subject  of  universal  pillage,  that  fifteen  editions  had 
been  published  without  my  avowal,  without  my  knowl- 
edge, and  what  is  still  worse,  in  a  very  incorrect  state,  I 
conceived  the  project  of  printing  a  second  edition  at  my 
own  expense,  and  inserting  in  each  volume,  instead  of 
a  preface,  a  part  of  my  life,  imagining,  at  that  time, 
that  at  the  end  of  the  work  the  history  of  my  person 
and  my  theatre  might  be  completed. 

I  was  mistaken.  When  I  began  the  octavo  edition 
of  Pasquali,  with  plates,  at  Venice,  I  could  not  have 
anv  idea  that  my  destiny  would  lead  me  to  cross  the 
Alps. 

On  being  called  to  France,  in  1761,  I  continued  to 
furnish  the  changes  and  corrections  which  I  had  pro- 
jected for  the  Venice  edition  ;  but  the  vortex  of  Paris, 
my  new  occupations,  and  the  distance  between  the  two 
places,  have  diminished  my  activity  and  retarded  the 
execution  of  the  press  to  such  a  degree,  that  a  work 
which  was  to  extend  to  thirty  volumes,  and  to  be  com- 
pleted in  eight  years,  is  only  at  the  expiration  of  twenty, 
at  the  seventeenth  volume,  and  will  never  be  finished 
in  my  lifetime. 

What  at  present  agitates  and  urges  me  is  the  account 
of  my  life,     I  repeat,  it  is  not  interesting  ;  but  what  I 


author's  preface.  33 

have  hitherto  given  in  the  seventeen  first  volumes  has 
been  so  well  received,  that  I  am  induced  to  continue  it, 
especially  as  what  I  have  hitherto  written  has  only  a 
reference  to  my  person,  and  what  remains  for  me  to 
say  relates  to  my  theatre  in  particular,  that  of  the 
Italians  in  general,  and  in  part  of  that  of  the  French 
which  I  have  narrowly  examined.  The  comparison 
of  the  manners  and  tastes  of  the  two  nations,  and  what- 
ever I  have  seenvmd  ohserved,  may  perhaps,  be  found 
agreeable  and  even  instructive  to  amateurs. 

I  am  resolved  therefore  to  labor  as  long  as  I  can  ; 
and  I  do  so  with  inexpressible  pleasure,  that  I  may  the 
sooner  have  to  speak  of  my  dear  Paris,  which  gave  me 
so  kind  a  reception,  which  has  afforded  me  so  much 
amusement,  and  where  I  have  been  so  usefully  occupied. 

I  begin  by  throwing  together  into  French  the  con- 
tents of  the  historical  prefaces  of  my  seventeen  volumes 
of  Pasquali.  This  is  an  abridgment  of  my  life  from 
my  birth  to  the  commencement  of  what  in  Italy  i 
called  the  reformation  of  the  Italian  theatre.  The, 
public  will  see  in  what  manner  the  comic  genius,  which 
has  always  controlled  me,  was  announced,  how  it  was 
developed,  the  useless  efforts  made  to  turn  me  from 
the  cultivation  of  it,  and  the  sacrifice  made  by  me  t" 
the  imperious  idol  which  carried  me  along.  This  will 
form  the  first  part  of  my  memoirs. 

The  second  part  will  comprehend  the  history  of  all  my 
pieces,  an  account  of  the  circumstances  which  supplied 
me  with  the  subject  of  them,  the  success  or  failure  of 
my  comedies,  the  rivalry  excited  by  my  success,  the 
cabals  which  I  treated  with  contempt,  and  the  criti- 
cisms which  I  respected,  the  satires  which  I  bore  in 
silence,  and  the  cavils  of  the  actors  which  I  surmounted. 
It  will  be  seen  that  humanity  is  everywhere  the  same. 


34 


AUTHORS    PREFACE. 


that  jealousy  employs  itself  everywhere,  and  that  every- 
where a  man  of  a  cool  and  tranquil  disposition,  in  the 
end,  acquires  the  love  of  the  public,  and  wearies  out 
the  perfidy  of  his  enemies. 

The  third  part  of  these  Memoirs  will  contain  my 
emigration  into  France.  I  am  so  enchanted  with 
having  an  opportunity  of  speaking  my  mind  freely  on 
this  subject,  that  I  am  almost  tempted  to  begin  my 
work  with  that  period.  But  in  everything  there  ought 
to  be  method.  I  should  have  been  perhaps  obliged  to 
retouch  the  two  preceding  parts,  and  I  am  not  fond  of 
going  over  what  I  have  already  done. 

This  is  all  that  I  had  to  say  to  my  readers.  I  re- 
quest them  to  read  me.  and  to  be  so  good  as  to  yield 
me  their  belief;  truth  has  always  been  my  favorite 
virtue.  I  have  always  found  my  account  in  it  ;  it  has 
saved  me  from  the  necessity  of  studying  falsehood,  and 
the  mortification  of  blushing. 


Wa&$ÈÊ 

«JÉ^w'/i 

---L.    ;. 

M 

>i 

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s 

j|\rWVN\ 

M 

MEMOIRS 

OF 

CARLO     GOLDONI. 

PART    THE     FIRST. 


WAS  born  at  Venice,  in  the  year  1707,  in  a 
large  and  beautiful  house  between  the  bridges 
ofNoinboli  and  Donna  Onesta,  at  the  corner 
of  the  street  C'a  cent'  anni,  in  the  parish  of 
St.  Thomas.  Julius  Goldoni,  my  father,  was  born  in 
the  same  city  ;  but  all  his  family  were  of  Modena. 
My  grandfather,  Charles  Groldoni,  went  through  his 
studies  in  the  famous  college  of  Parma.  There  he 
formed  an  acquaintance  with  two  noble  Venetians. 
which  soon  ripened  into  the  most  intimate  friendship. 
They  prevailed  on  him  to  follow  them  te  Venice.  Hi- 
father  being  dead,  he  obtained  permission  from  his 
uncle,  who  was  a  colonel  and  governor  of  Finale,  to 
settle  in  the  country  of  his  friends,  where  he  obtained 
a  very  honorable  and  lucrative  appointment  in  the 
office  of  the  Five  Commercial  Sages,  and  where  he 
married  a  Miss  Barili  of  Modena.  the  daughter  of  one 


36  MEMOIRS    OF 

counsellor  of  state  of  the  Duke  of  Parma,  and  the  sister 
of  another.     This  was  my  paternal  grandmother. 

On  her  death  my  grandfather  became  acquainted 
with  a  respectable  widow  who  had  two  daughters  :  he 
married  the  mother,  and  the  eldest  daughter  was 
wedded  to  his  son.  They  were  of  the  Salvioni  family, 
and,  though  not  rich,  were  in  easy  circumstances.  My 
mother  was  a  pretty  brunette,  and  though  a  little  lame, 
was  still  very  attractive.  All  their  property  came  into 
the  hands  of  my  grandfather. 

He  was  a  worthy  man,  but  by  no  means  an  econo- 
mist. Fond  of  pleasure,  the  gay  mode  of  life  of  the 
Venetians  was  well  suited  to  his  disposition.  He  took 
an  elegant  country-house,  belonging  to  the  Duke  oJ 
Massa-Carrara,  in  the  Marca  Trevigiana,  six  leagues 
from  Venice,  where  he  lived  in  great  splendor.  The 
grandees  of  the  neighborhood  could  not  brook  the  idea 
of  Groldoui  drawing  all  the  villagers  and  strangers  about 
him  ;  and  one  of  his  neighbors  made  an  attempt  to 
deprive  him  of  his  house  ;  but  my  grandfather  went  to 
Carrara,  and  took  a  lease  of  all  the  duke's  property  in 
the  Venetian  territories.  He  returned  quite  proud  of 
his  victory,  and  lived  more  extravagantly  than  ever. 
He  gave  plays  and  operas,  and  had  the  best  and  most 
celebrated  actors  and  musicians  at  his  command  ;  and 
we  had  visitors  from  all  quarters.  Amidst  this  riot 
and  luxury  did  I  enter  the  world.  Could  I  possibly 
contemn  theatrical  amusements,  or  not  be  a  lover  of 
gay  et  y  ! 

My  mother  brought  me  into  the  world  with  little 
pain,  and  this  increased  her  love  for  me  ;  my  first  ap- 
pearance was  not,  as  usual,  announced  by  cries,  and 
this  gentleness  seemed  then  an  indication  of  the  pacific 
character  which  from   that  day  forward  I  have  ever 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  37 

preserved.  I  was  the  idol  of  the  house:  my  nurse 
maintained  that  I  was  clever  ;  my  mother  took  the 
charge  of  my  education,  and  my  father  of-my  amuse- 
ment. He  ordered  a  puppet-show  to  he  constructed 
for  me,  which  he  contrived  t<»  manage  himself,  with  the 
assistance  of  three  or  four  of  his  friends  ;  and  at  the  age 
of  four  tins  was  a  high  entertainment  for  me. 

My  grandfather  died  in  1712,  of  a  defiuxion  in  the 
chest,  occasioned  by  his  exertions  in  a  party  of  pleas- 
ure, which  in  six  days  brought  him  to  his  grave.  My 
grandmother  soon  followed  him.  This  caused  a  terri- 
ble change  in  our  family,  which,  from  the  most  fortu- 
nate state  of  affluence,  was  all  at  once  plunged  into  the 
most  embarrassing  mediocrity.  My  father's  education 
was  not  what  it  ought  to  have  been  ;  he  was  by  no 
means  destitute  of  abilities,  but  they  had  never  been 
properly  cultivated.  He  could  not  retain  his  father's 
situation,  which  a  crafty  Greek  contrived  to  get  posses- 
sion of.  The  free  property  of  Modena  was  sold,  and 
the  entailed  mortgaged  :  and  all  that  remained  was  the 
property  of  Venice,  the  fortunes  of  my  mother  and  aunt. 
To  add  to  our  misfortune,  my  mother  gave  birth  to  a 
second  son,  John  Groldoni,  my  brother.  My  father 
found  himself  very  much  embarrassed  ;  but  as  he  was 
not  over  fond  of  indulging  in  melancholy  reflections, 
he  resolved  on  a  journey  to  Rome  to  dispel  his  un- 
easiness. I  shall  relate  in  the  following  chapter  what 
he  did  there,  and  what  became  of  him.  I  must  return 
to  myself,  for  I  am  the  hero  of  my  own  tale. 

My  mother  was  left  alone  at  the  head  of  the  house, 
with  her  sister  and  her  two  children.  She  put  the 
youngest  out  to  board;  and,  bestowing  lier  whole  at- 
tention on  me,  she  determined  on  bringing  me  up  under 
her  own  eye.     I  was  mild,  tranquil,  and  obedient  :  at 


38  MEMOIRS    OF 

the  age  of  four,  I  could  read  aud  write,  I  knew  my 
catechism  by  heart,  and  a  tutor  was  procured  for  me. 
I  was  very  fond  of  hooks,  and  I  learned  with  great 
facility  my  grammar,  and  the  principles  of  geography 
and  arithmetic  ;  hut  my  favorite  reading  was  comedies. 
The  small  library  of  my  father  contained  a  tolerable 
number,  aud  I  employed  almost  all  my  leisure  mo- 
ments in  reading  them.  I  even  copied  the  passages 
with  which  I  was  most  delighted.  My  mother  gave 
herself  no  concern  about  the  choice  of  my  reading;  it 
was  enough  that  my  time  was  not  taken  up  with  the 
usual  playthings  of  children.  Among  the  comic  authors 
whom  I  frequently  read  and  reread,  Cicognini  had  the 
preference.  This  Florentine  author,  very  little  known 
in  the  republic  of  letters,  was  the  author  of  several 
comedies  of  intrigue,  full  of  whining  pathos  and 
commonplace  drollery  ;  still,  however,  they  were  ex- 
ceedingly interesting,  for  he  possessed  the  art  of  keep- 
ing up  a  state  of  suspense,  and  he  was  successful  in 
winding  up  his  plots.  I  was  infinitely  attached  to  him, 
studied  him  with  great  attention,  and,  at  the  age  of 
eight,  I  had  the  presumption  to  compose  a  comedy. 

The  first  person  to  whom  1  communicated  this  cir- 
cumstance was  my  nurse,  who  thought  it  quite  charm- 
ing. My  aunt  laughed  at  me  ;  my  mother  scolded  and 
caressed  me  by  turns  ;  my  tutor  maintained  that  there 
was  more  wit  and  common-sense  in  it  than  belouged  to 
my  age  ;  but  what  was  most  singular,  my  godfather,  a 
lawyer,  richer  in  gold  than  in  knowledge,  could  not  be 
prevailed  on  to  believe  that  it  was  my  composition. 
He  insisted  that  it  had  been  revised  and  corrected  by 
my  tutor,  who  was  quite  shocked  at  the  insinuation. 
The  dispute  was  growing  warm,  when,  luckily,  a  third 
person   made    his  appearance,  and  instantly    restored 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  39 

tranquillity.  This  was  M.  Vallé,  afterwards  the  Abbé 
Vallé  of  Bergamo.  This  friend  of  the  family  had  seen 
me  busied  at  my  comedy,  and  had  witnessed  my  puer- 
ilities and  my  little  sallies.  I  had  entreated  him  to 
speak  to  nobody  on  the  subject  :  he  had  kept  my  secret  ; 
and  on  this  occasion  he  put  my  incredulous  godfather 
to  silence,  and  rendered  justice  to  my  good  qualities. 

In  the  first  volume  of  my  edition  of  Pasquali,  I  cited 
the  Abbé  Vallé,  who  was  living  in  J  770,  in  confirma- 
tion of  the  truth  of  this  anecdote,  suspecting  that  there 
might  be  other  godfathers  not  disposed  to  give  me 
credit.  If  the  reader  ask  what  was  the  title  of  my 
play,  I  cannot  satisfy  him,  for  this  is  a  trifle  I  did  not 
think  of  when  composing  it  :  it  would  be  easy  for  me 
to  invent  one  now  ;  but  I  prefer  giving  a  true  state- 
ment of  things  to  the  embellishing  them.  This  com- 
edy, in  short,  or  rather  this  piece  of  infantine  folly,  was 
circulated  amongst  all  my  mother's  acquaintance.  A 
copy  was  sent  off  to  my  father;  and  this  leads  me 
again  to  speak  of  him. 

My  father  was  only  to  have  remained  a  few  months 
in  Rome,  but  lie  staved  four  years.  In  this  great  cap- 
ital of  the  Christian  world  there  was  an  intimate  friend 
of  his,  M.  Alexander  Bonicelli,  a  Venetian,  who  had 
lately  married  a  Roman  lady  of  great  wealth,  and  who 
lived  in  great  splendor.  M.  Bonicelli  gave  his  friend 
Goldoni  a  very  warm  reception  :  he  received  him  into 
his  house,  introduced  him  into  all  societies  and  to  all 
his  acquaintance,  and  recommended  him  powerfully  to 
If.  Lancisi,  the  first  physician  and  secret  camériere  of 
Pope  Clement  XI.  This  celebrated  doctor,  by  whom 
the  republic  of  letters  and  the  faculty  have  been  en- 
riched with  excellent  works,  conceived  a  strong  attach- 
ment for  my  father,  who  possessed  talents,  and  who 


40  MEMOIKS   OF 

was  looking  out  for  employment.  Laneisi  advised  him 
to  apply  himself  to  medicine,  and  he  promised  him  his 
favor,  assistance,  and  protection.  My  father  consented  : 
he  studied  in  the  college  della  Sapienzia,  and  served 
his  apprenticeship  in  the  hospital  del  Santo  Spirito. 
At  the  end  of  four  years  he  was  created  doctor,  and 
his  Mecsenas  sent  him  to  make  his  first  experiments  at 
Perugia. 

My  father's  début  was  exceedingly  fortunate:  he 
contrived  to  avoid  those  diseases  with  which  he  was 
unacquainted;  he  cured  his  patients  ;  and  the  "  Vene- 
tian doctor"  was  quite  in  vogue  in  that  country.  My 
father,  who  was  perhaps  a  good  physician,  was  also 
very  agreeable  in  company;  and  to  the  natural  amenity 
of  his  countrymen,  he  added  an  acquaintance  with  the 
usages  of  genteel  company  in  the  place  which  he  had 
quitted.  He  acquired  the  esteem  and  the  friendship  of 
the  Bailloni  and  the  Antinori,  two  of  the  most  noble 
and  wealthy  families  of  the  town  of  Perugia. 

In  this  town,  and  thus  happily  situated,  he  received 
the  first  specimen  of  his  eldest  son's  abilities.  Defec- 
tive as  this  comedy  must  have  been,  he  was  infinitely 
flattered  with  it  ;  for,  calculating  by  the  rules  of  arith- 
metic, if  nine  years  gave  four  carats  of  talent,  eighteen 
might  give  twelve  ;  and,  by  regular  progression,  it  was 
possible  to  arrive  even  at  a  degree  of  perfection.  My 
father  determined  on  having  me  with  himself.  This 
was  a  sad  blow  for  my  mother,  who  at  first  resisted, 
then  hesitated,  and  at  last  yielded.  One  of  the  most 
favorable  opportunities  occurred  at  this  time.  Our 
family  was  very  intimate  with  that  of  Count  Rinalducci 
de  Rimini',  who,  with  his  wife  and  daughter,  was  then 
at  Venice.  The  Abbé  Einalducci,  a  Benedictine 
father,   and  the  count's  brother,  was  to    set  out   for 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  41 

Rome  ;  and  he  undertook  to  pass  through  Perugia, 
and  to  take  the  charge  of  me  to  that  place. 

Everything  was  got  ready,  and  the  moment  of  de- 
parture arrived.  I  will  not  speak  of  the  tears  of  my 
tender  mother  :  those  who  have  children  well  know 
what  is  suffered  on  such  trying  occasions.  I  was  very 
warmly  attached  to  her  who  had  given  me  birth,  who 
had  reared  and  cherished  me  ;  but  the  idea  of  a  journey 
is  a  charming  consolation  for  a  young  man.  Father 
Rinaldueci  and  myself  embarked  in  the  port  of  Venice, 
in  a  sort  of  felucca,  called  peota-zuecchina,  and  we 
sailed  for  Rimini.  I  suffered  nothing  from  the  sea  ;  I 
had  even  an  excellent  appetite,  and  we  landed  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Mareechia,  where  horses  were  in  readi- 
ness for  us.  When  a  horse  was  brought  to  me,  I  was 
in  the  greatest  possible  embarrassment.  At  Venice  no 
horses  are  to  be  seen  in  the  streets;  and  though  there 
arc  two  academies,  I  was  too  young  to  derive  any  ad- 
vantage from  them.  In  my  infancy  I  had  seen  horses 
in  the  country,  but  I  was  afraid  of  them,  and  did  not 
dare  to  approach  them.  The  r<  nuls  <  »f  Umbria,  through 
which  we  had  to  pass,  were  mountainous,  and  a  horse 
was  the  most  convenient  mode  of  conveyance  for  pas- 
sengers; there  was,  therefore,  no  alternative.  They 
laid  hold  of  me  by  the  middle,  and  threw  me  on  the 
saddle.  Merciful  Heaven  !  Boots,  stirrups,  whip, 
and  bridle  !  what  was  to  be  done  with  all  these  things  ! 
I  was  tossed  about  like  a  sack;  the  reverend  father 
laughed  very  heartily  at  me,  the  servants  ridiculed  me, 
and  I  even  laughed  at  myself.  I  became  by  degrees 
familiarized  to  my  pony.  I  regaled  it  with  bread  and 
fruit,  and  in  six  days'  time  we  arrived  at  Perugia. 

My  father  was  glad  to  see  me,  and  still  more  glad  to 
see  me  in  good  health.     I  told  him,  with  an  air  of  im- 


42  MEMOIRS   OF 

portance,  that  I  had  performed  the  journey  on  horse- 
back ;  he  smiled  as  he  applauded  me,  aud  he  embraced 
me  affectionately.  The  place  where  we  were  lodged 
was  exceedingly  dismal,  and  the  street  steep  and  dirty; 
I  entreated  my  father  to  remove,  but  he  could  not,  as 
the  house  belonged  to  the  hotel  or  palace  d  'Antinori  ; 
he  paid  no  rent,  and  was  quite  near  the  nuns  of  St. 
Catharine,  whose  physician  he  was. 

I  now  viewed  the  town  of  Perugia  ;  my  father  con- 
ducted me  everywhere  himself;  he  began  with  the  su- 
perb church  of  San  Lorenzo,  which  is  the  cathedral  of 
this  country,  where  the  ring  with  which  St.  Joseph  es- 
poused the  Virgin  Mary  is  still  preserved  :  it  is  a  stone 
of  a  transparent  bluish  color,  and  very  thick  contour  ; 
so  it  appeared  to  me, —  but  this  ring,  it  is  said,  has  the 
marvellous  property  of  appearing  under  a  different 
color  aud  form  to  every  one  who  approaches  it.  My 
father  pointed  out  to  me  the  citadel,  built  when  Perugia 
was  in  the  enjoyment  of  republican  liberty,  by  order  of 
Paul  the  Third,  under  the  pretext  of  a  donation  to  the 
Perugians  of  an  hospital  for  patients  and  pilgrims. 
He  introduced  pieces  of  camion  in  carts  loaded  with 
straw,  and  the  inhabitants  soon  found  themselves 
obliged  to  acknowledge  Paul  the  Third.  I  saw  fine 
palaces  and  churches,  and  agreeable  walks.  I  asked 
whether  there  was  a  theatre,  and  I  was  told  there  was 
none.  "  So  much  the  worse,"  said  Ij  "I  would  not 
remain  here  for  all  the  gold  in  the  world!" 

After  passing  a  few  days  in  this  manner,  my  father 
determined  that  I  should  renew  my  studies  ;  a  very 
proper  resolution,  which  accorded  with  my  own  wishes. 
The  Jesuits  were  then  in  vogue,  and  on  being  proposed 
to  them,  I  was  received  without  difficulty.  The  hu- 
manity-classes are  not  regulated  here  as  in  France  ; 


CARLO  GOLDONL  43 

there  are  only  three, —  under  grammar,  upper  grammar, 
or  humanity,  properly  so  called,  and  rhetoric.  Those 
who  employ  their  time  well  may  finish  their  course  in 
the  space  of  three  years.  At  Venice  I  had  gone 
through  the  first  year  of  under  grammar,  and  T  might 
now  have  entered  the  upper,  hut  the  time  which  I  had 
lost,  the  distraction  occasioned  by  travelling,  and  the 
new  masters  under  whom  I  was  about  to  be  placed,  in- 
duced my  father  to  make  me  recommence  my  studies  ; 
in  which  he  acted  very  wisely,  for  you  will  soon  see, 
my  dear  reader,  how  the  vanity  of  the  Venetian  gram- 
marian, who  plumed  himself  on  the  composition  of  a 
play,  was  in  an  instant  wofully  mortified.  The  liter- 
ary season  was  well  advanced,  and  I  was  received  in 
the  under  class  as  a  scholar  properly  qualified  for  the 
upper.  My  answers  to  the  questions  put  to  me  were 
incorrect  ;  I  hesitated  in  my  translations  ;  and  the 
Latin  which  I  attempted  to  make  was  full  of  barbar- 
isms and  solecisms  :  in  short,  I  became  the  derision  of 
my  companions,  who  took  a  pleasure  in  challenging 
me  ;  and  as  every  encounter  with  them  ended  in  my 
defeat,  my  father  was  quite  in  despair,  and  I  myself 
was  astonished  and  mortified,  and  believed  myself  be- 
witched. 

The  time  of  the  holidays  drew  near,  when  Ave  had  to 
perform  a  task,  which  in  Italy  is  called  the  passage 
Latin  :  for  this  little  labor  decides  the  fate  of  the 
scholar,  whether  be  is  to  rise  to  a  higher  class,  or  con- 
tinue to  remain  in  the  same.  The  latter  alternative 
was  all  that  1  had  a  right  to  expect.  The  day  came  : 
the  regent  or  rector  dictated  :  the  scholars  wrote  down  : 
and  every  one  exerted  himself  to  the  utmost.  I  strained 
every  nerve,  and  figured  to  myself  my  honor  and  am- 
bition at  stake,  and  the  concern  of  my  father  and  mother; 


44  MEMOIRS    OF 

I  saw  my  neighbors  bestowing  a  side  glance  at  me,  and 
laughing  at  my  endeavors:  facit  hahfjnatio  version. 
Rage  and  shame  spurred  me  on  and  inspired  me  ;  I  read 
my  theme,  I  felt  my  head  cool,  my  hand  rapid,  and  my 
memory  fresh  ;  I  finished  before  the  rest,  I  sealed  my 
paper,  took  it  to  the  regent,  and  departed  very  well 
pleased  with  myself.  Eight  days  afterwards  the  scholars 
were  collected  together  and  called  on  ;  and  the  decision 
of  the  college  was  published.  The  first  nomination 
was,  "  Goldoni  to  the  Upper";  on  which  a  general 
laugh  burst  out  in  the  class,  and  many  insulting  ob- 
servations were  made.  My  translation  was  read  aloud, 
in  which  there  was  not  a  single  fault  of  orthography. 
The  regent  called  me  to  the  chair  ;  I  rose  to  go  ;  I  saw 
my  father  at  the  door,  and  I  ran  to  embrace  him. 

The  regent  wished  to  speak  to  me  in  private  ;  he 
paid  me  several  compliments,  and  told  me,  that  not- 
withstanding the  gross  mistakes  which  I  committed 
from  time  to  time  in  my  ordinary  lessons,  he  had  sus- 
pected that  I  was  possessed  of  talents  from  the  favor- 
able specimens  he  occasionally  perceived  in  my  themes 
and  verses  ;  he  added  that  this  last  essay  convinced 
him  that  I  had  purposely  concealed  my  talents,  and  he 
alluded  jocularly  to  the  tricks  of  the  Venetians.  "  You 
do  me  too  great  an  honor,  reverend  father,"  said  I  to 
him  :  "I  assure  you  I  have  suffered  too  much  during 
the  last  three  months  to  amuse  myself  at  such  an  ex- 
pense :  I  did  not  counterfeit  ignorance  ;  I  was  in  reality 
what  I  seemed,  and  it  is  a  phenomenon  which  I  cannot 
explain."  The  regent  exhorted  mo  to  continue  my  ap- 
plication, and  as  he  himself  was  to  pass  to  the  upper 
class  to  which  I  had  gained  a  right  of  entrance,  he 
assured  me  of  his  favor  and  good-will. 

My  father,  who  was  perfectly  satisfied  with  me,  en- 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  45 

deavored  to  recompense  and  amuse  me  during  the  time 
of  the  vacation.  He  knew  that  I  was  fond  of  plays  ; 
he  admired  them  also  himself;  he  even  collected  a  so- 
ciety of  young  people,  and  obtained  the  use  of  a  hall 
in  the  palace  d'Autinori,  where  he  constructed  a  small 
theatre  ;  the  actors  were  formed  by  himself,  and  we 
represented  plays.  In  the  pope's  dominions  (except 
the  three  legations)  women  are  not  allowed  on  the 
stage.  I  was  young,  and  by  no  means  ugly,  and  a 
female  character  was  allotted  to  me  ;  I  even  got  the 
first  character  and  was  charged  with  the  prologue. 
This  prologue  was  so  singular  a  piece  that  it  has  never 
gone  out  of  my  head,  and  I  must  treat  my  reader  with 
it.  In  the  last  century  the  Italian  literature  was  so 
corrupted  that  both  prose  and  poetry  were  turgid  and 
Lombastical  ;  and  metaphors,  hyperboles,  and  antith- 
eses supplied  the  place  of  common-sense.  This  de- 
praved taste  was  not  altogether  extirpated  in  1720; 
and  my  father  was  accustomed  to  it.  The  following 
is  the  commencement  of  the  precious  composition  which 
I  was  made  to  deliver  :  "  Benignissimo  cielo  !"  (I  was 
addressing  my  auditors)  uai  rai  del  vostro  splendi- 
dissimosole,  eccoci  qual  farfalle,  die  spiegando  le  deboli 
ali  de'  nostri  concetti,  portiamo  a  si  bel  lume  il  volo," 
etc.  ;  which,  in  plain  English,  signifies,  "  Most  benign 
Heaven,  in  the  rays  of  your  most  resplendent  sun,  be- 
hold us  like  butterflies,  who,  on  the  feeble  wings  of 
our  expressions,  take  our  flight  to  your  admirable 
light,"  etc. 

This  charming  prologue  procured  me  an  immensity 
of  sweetmeats,  with  which  the  theatre  was  inundated, 
and  myself  almost  blinded.  This  is  the  usual  expres- 
sion of  applause  in  the  Pope's  dominions.  The  pieee 
in  which  I  acted  was  ''La  Sorellina  di  Don  Pilone " 


46  MEMOIRS    OF 

(The  Little  Sister  of  Don  Pilone),  and  I  was  highly 
applauded  ;  for  in  a  country  where  plays  are  rare  the 
spectators  are  not  difficult  to  please.  My  father  said 
that  I  seemed  to  comprehend  my  part,  but  that  I  should 
never  be  a  good  actor  •  and  he  was  not  mistaken.  We 
continued  to  act  till  the  end  of  the  holidays.  I  took 
my  place  at  the  opening  of  the  classes;  at  the  end  of 
the  year  I  passed  to  rhetoric  ;  and  I  finished  my  course 
with  the  friendship  and  esteem  of  the  Jesuits,  who  did 
me  the  honor  to  offer  me  a  place  in  their  society,  —  an 
honor  which  I  did  not  accept.  During  this  period 
great  changes  took  place  in  our  family.  My  mother 
could  no  longer  bear  the  absence  of  her  eldest  son  ; 
and  she  entreated  her  husband  either  to  return  to  Ven- 
ice or  to  permit  her  to  join  him.  After  many  letters 
and  many  discussions,  it  was  at  length  decided  that 
Madame  Goldoni,  with  her  sister  and  her  youngest  son, 
should  join  the  rest  of  the  family  ;  and  this  was  im- 
mediately carried  into  execution. 

My  mother  could  not  enjoy  a  single  day  of  good 
health  in  Perugia,  so  much  did  the  air  of  the  country 
disagree  with  her.  Born  and  brought  up  in  the  tem- 
perate climate  of  Venice,  she  could  not  bear  the  cold 
of  the  mountains.  She  suffered  a  great  deal,  and  was 
almost  at  death's  door,  but  she  was  resolved  to  sur- 
mount the  pains  and  dangers  of  her  situation  so  long 
as  she  believed  my  residence  in  that  town  necessary, 
that  the  course  of  my  studies,  which  were  now  so  far 
advanced,  might  not  be  exposed  to  interruption.  When 
my  course  was  finished,  she  prevailed  on  my  father  to 
satisfy  her,  and  he  very  willingly  consented.  The 
death  of  his  protector,  Antinori,  had  been  productive 
of  several  disagreeable  circumstances  ;  the  physicians 
of  Perugia  bore  him  little  good-will,  and  this  induced 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  47 

him  the  more  readily  to  resolve  on  quitting  the  territory 
of  Perugia  and  approach  the  mouth  of  the  Adriatic. 


II. 

In  a  few  days  the  project  was  carried  into  execution. 
A  carriage,  capable  of  holding  four  persons,  was  pur- 
chased, and  we  had  my  brother  into  the  bargain.  We 
took  the  road  of  Spoleti,  as  the  most  commodious,  and 
we  arrived  at  Rimini,  where  the  whole  family  of  Count 
Rinalducci  was  assembled,  and  where  we  were  received 
with  transports  of  joy.  It  was  of  the  utmost  con- 
sequence that  my  literary  application  should  not  be  a 
second  time  interrupted.  My  father  destined  me  for 
medicine,  and  I  had  to  enter  on  the  study  of  philosophy. 

The  Dominicans  of  Rimini  enjoyed  a  great  reputa- 
tion for  logic,  the  key  to  all  the  sciences,  physical  as 
well  as  speculative.  Count  Rinalducci  introduced  us 
to  Professor  Candiui,  and  I  was  intrusted  to  his  care. 
As  the  count  could  not  keep  me  in  his  own  house,  I 
was  boarded  with  M.  Battaglini,  a  merchant  and  banker, 
the  friend  and  countryman  of  my  father.  Notwith- 
standing the  remonstrances  and  regrets  of  my  mother, 
who  would  never  willingly  part  from  me,  the  whole 
family  set  out  for  Venice,  where  I  could  only  join  them 
when  it  might  be  thought  proper  to  send  for  me.  They 
embarked  for  Chiozza,*  in  a  bark  belonging  to  that 

*  Chiozza  is  eight  leagues  from  Venice,  and  built  on  piles  like  the  cap- 
ital. It  is  computed  to  contain  forty  thousand  souls,  all  of  the  lower 
order, —  fishermen,  sailors,  and  women, who  make  a  coarse  lacp,  in  which 
a  considerable  trade  is  carried  on  ;  there  are  very  few  individuals  above 
the  vulgar.  Every  person  is  ranged  there  in  one  of  two  classes,  —  the 
rich  or  the  poor;  those  who  wear  a  wig  and  cloak  are  the  rich  ;  and  the 
others,  who  have  only  a  cap  and  capotto,  are  the  poor  ;  and  yet  it  fre- 
quently happens  that  the  latter  possess  four  times  more  wealth  than  the 
others. 


48  MEMOIBS   OF 

place  ;  and  the  wind  "being  favorable,  they  arrived 
there  in  a  very  short  time  ;  but,  on  account  of  the 
fatigue  of  my  mother,  they  were  obliged  to  stop  there 
for  the  sake  of  repose. 

This  place  agreed  very  well  with  my  mother,  the  air 
of  Chiozza  corresponding  with  that  of  her  native  place. 
She  was  elegantly  lodged,  enjoyed  an  agreeable  view, 
and  a  charming  degree  of  freedom  ;  her  sister  was  com- 
plaisant, my  brother  was  still  an  infant  unable  to  speak, 
and  my  father,  who  had  projects,  communicated  his  re- 
flections to  his  wife,  by  whom  they  were  approved. 
u  We  must  not  return  to  Venice,"  said  he,  "  till  we  are 
in  a  situation  to  enable  us  to  live  without  being  burden- 
some to  any  one."  It  was  necessary,  therefore,  that  he 
should  first  go  to  Modena  to  arrange  the  family  affairs. 
This  was  accordingly  done.  My  father  was  now  at 
Modena,  my  mother  at  Chiozza,  and  myself  at  Eimiui. 

I  fell  sick,  and  was  seized  with  the  small-pox,  but 
of  a  very  mild  kind.  M.  Battaglini  did  not  inform  my 
parents  till  he  saw  me  out  of  danger.  It  is  impossible 
to  be  better  taken  care  of  and  attended  to  than  I  was 
on  this  occasion.  I  was  hardly  in  a  condition  to  ero 
out,  when  my  landlord,  who  was  extremely  attentive 
and  zealous  for  my  welfare,  urged  me  to  return  to  Father 
Candini.  I  went  very  unwillingly  :  this  professor,  who 
was  a  man  of  great  celebrity,  wearied  me  dreadfully  ;  he 
was  mild,  wise,  and  learned;  he  possessed  great  merit, 
but  he  was  a  Thomist  in  his  soul,  and  could  not  devi- 
ate from  his  ordinary  method  ;  his  scholastic  circumlo- 
cutions appeared  to  be  useless,  and  his  barbara  and 
baralipton  ridiculous.  I  wrote  from  his  dictation  ;  but, 
instead  of  going  over  my  note-books  at  home,  I  nour- 
ished my  mind  with  a  much  more  useful  and  agreeable 
philosophy;    I  read   Plantas.  Terence,  Aristophanes, 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  49 

and  the  fragments  of  Bfenander.     It  is  true,  I  did  not 

shine  iu  oar  daily  circles  :  but  I  had  the  address  to  per- 
suade my  companions  that  my  indifference  to  the  mas- 
ter's Lessons  proceeded  neither  from  laziness  nor  stupid 
ignorance,  but  from  being  fatigued  and  disgusted  with 
tluir  length  and  inutility.  There  were  many  of  them 
who  thought  on  this  subject  like  myself.  Modern  phi- 
losophy had  not  then  made  the  considerable  progress 
which  has  been  since  witnessed  ;  and  it  was  at  that 
time  necessary  (especially  for  ecclesiastics)  to  keep  to 
the  systems  of  Thomas,  or  Scot,  or  the  peripatetic,  or 
the  mixed,  the  whole  of  which  only  wander  from  the 
philosophy  of  good  sense. 

I  had  great  want  of  some  agreeable  amusement  to 
relieve  the  ennui  which  overpowered  me.  I  soon  found 
an  opportunity,  of  which  I  availed  myself:  and  my 
readers  will  not  he  displeased  perhaps  to  pass  with  me 
from  the  circles  of  philosophy  to  those  of  a  company  of 
comedians.  We  had  one  at  Rimini,  which  appealed 
to  me  quite  charming.  It  was  the  first  time  I  saw 
women  on  the  stage:  and  I  found  that  they  ornamented 
the  scene  in  the  most  attractive  manner.  Rimini  is  in 
the  legation  of  Ravenna:  women  are  admitted  on  the 
theatre,  and  we  do  not  see  there,  as  at  Rome,  men 
without  beards  or  even  the  signs  of  them.  The  first 
day  or  two,  I  went  very  modestly  into  the  pit  ;  but  see- 
ing young  people  like  myself  on  the  boards,  I  endeav- 
ored also  to  get  there,  and  succeeded  without  difficulty. 
I  bestowed  a  side-glance  on  the  ladies,  who  looked 
boldly  at  me.  By  and  by  I  grew  mon-  familiar,  and 
from  one  subject  of  conversation  to  another,  and  from 
question  to  question,  they  learned  that  I  was  a  Vene- 
tian. They  were  all  country-people  of  my  own.  and  I 
received    compliments    and    caresses    without    number 


50  MEMOIRS    OF 

from  them.  The  director  or  manager  himself  loaded 
me  with  kindness  ;  he  asked  me  to  dine  with  him,  and 
I  went.  The  reverend  Father  Candini  was  now  entirely 
out  of  my  head. 

The  comedians  were  on  the  point  of  finishing  their 
engagement,  and  taking  their  departure,  which  was  a 
most  distressing  circumstance  for  me.  On  a  Friday,  a 
day  of  relaxation  for  all  Italy,  the  state  of  Veuice  ex- 
cepted, we  formed  a  rural  party  ;  all  the  company  were 
with  us,  and  the  manager  announced  the  departure  for 
the  following  week  ;  he  had  engaged  the  bark,  which 
was  to  conduct  them  to  Chiozza.  "  To  Chiozza  !  n  said 
I,  with  a  cry  of  surprise.  "  Yes,  sir,  we  are  to  go  to 
Venice,  but  we  shall  stop  fifteen  or  twenty  days  at 
Chiozza,  to  give  a  few  representations  in  passing." 
"  Ah  !  my  mother  is  at  Chiozza  ;  how  gladly  would  I 
see  her  !"  "  Come  along  with  us."  "  Yes,  yes,"  cried 
one  and  all;  "  with  us,  with  us,  in  our  bark  ;  you  will 
be  very  comfortable  in  it  ;  it  will  cost  you  nothing  ;  we 
shall  play,  laugh,  sing,  and  amuse  ourselves."  How 
could  I  resist  such  temptations  ?  How  could  I  lose  so 
fine  an  opportunity  ?  I  accepted  the  invitation,  and  I 
began  to  prepare  for  my  journey. 

I  opened  the  business  to  my  landlord,  but  he  opposed 
me  warmly.  As  I  insisted,  however,  he  communicated 
my  project  to  Count  Riualducci,  and  I  had  every  one 
against  me.  I  pretended  to  acquiesce,  and  I  kept  my- 
self quiet.  On  the  day  fixed  for  my  departure  I  put 
two  shirts  and  a  nightcap  into  my  pocket  ;  Irepaired  to 
the  port,  was  the  first  to  enter  the  vessel,  and  concealed 
myself  well  under  the  prow.  I  had  my  inkhorn  with 
me  ;  I  wrote  an  excuse  to  M.  Battaglini  :  I  told  him  I 
could  not  resist  the  desire  of  seeing  my  mother;  I  re- 
quested him  to  make  a  present  of  my  clothes  to  the 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  51 

nurse  who  took  care  of  me  in  my  illness;  and  I  told 
him  that  I  was  on  the  point  of  departure.  This  was  a 
fault,  I  own  ;  I  have  committed  others,  and  I  shall  own 
them  in  the  same  manner.  The  players  arrived. 
k'  Where  is  M.  Groldoni  I  "  Goldoni  then  sallied  out 
of  his  hiding-place,  at  which  every  one  began  to  laugh. 
I  was  feasted  and  caressed.  We  set  sail.  Adieu, 
Rimini.  My  comedians  were  not  Scarron's  company, 
but  on  the  whole,  they  presented  a  very  amusing  coup- 
ci' a  il.  Twelve  persons,  actors  as  well  as  actresses,  a 
prompter,  a  machinist,  a  store-keeper,  eight  domestics, 
four  chambermaids,  two  nurses,  children  of  every  age, 
cats,  dogs,  monkeys,  parrots,  birds,  pigeons,  and  a 
lamb  ;  it  was  another  Xoah's  ark  !  The  bark  Mas 
very  large,  and  divided  into  a  number  of  apartments. 
Every  female  had  her  little  corner,  with  curtains.  Au 
excellent  bed  Mas  fitted  up  for  me  beside  the  manager; 
and  all  of  us  were  comfortable.  The  steward,  who 
was  at  the  same  time  cook  and  butler,  rang  a  little 
bell,  M-hich  M'as  our  signal  for  breakfast.  On  this  we 
all  assembled  in  a  sort  of  saloon  in  the  middle  of  the 
vessel  above  the  chests,  trunks,  and  packages.  An 
oval  table  was  covered  with  coffee,  tea,  milk,  roast 
meat,  Mrater,  and  wine. 

The  principal  actress  {première  amoureuse)  asked 
for  soup.  There  M'as  none.  She  M-as  quite  in  a  rage, 
and  they  had  all  the  difficulty  in  the  world  to  pacify 
her  with  a  cup  of  chocolate.  She  Mas  the  ugliest  and 
the  most  difficult  to  pleas.-  of  the  whole.  After  break- 
fast, play  M'as  proposed  till  dinner  should  be  ready.  I 
played  tresset  pretty  well.  It  M'as  the  favorite  game 
of  my  mother,  from  whom  I  learned  it.  We  were 
going  to  begin  tresset  and  piquet,  but  a  faro-table  on 
deck  dreM'  everybody  towards  it.     The  bank  M'as  more 


52  MEMOIRS    OF 

a  matter  of  amusement  than  interest,  and  the  director 
would  not  have  Buffered  it  on  any  other  terms.  We 
played,  laughed,  joked,  and  crave  ourselves  up  to  all 
manner  of  tricks  till  the  bell  summoned  us  to  dinner. 
Macaroni  !  Every  one  fell  upon  it,  and  three  dishes 
were  devoured.  "We  had  also  alamode  beef,  cold  fowl, 
a  loin  of  veal,  a  dessert,  and  excellent  wine.  What 
a  charming  dinner  !     No  cheer  like  a  good  appetite. 

We  remained  four  hours  at  table  ;  we  played  on  dif- 
ferent instruments,  and  sang  a  great  deal.  The  actress 
who  played  the  waiting-maid  sang  divinely.  I  con- 
sidered her  attentively  :  she  produced  a  singular  sensa- 
tion in  me.  Alas!  an  adventure  took  place  which  in- 
terrupted the  happiness  of  the  society.  A  cat  escaped 
from  her  cage,  the  favorite  of  the  principal  actress, 
who  called  on  every  one  for  assistance.  She  was 
briskly  phased,  but,  being  as  wild  as  her  mistress,  she 
skipped,  leaped  about,  and  crept  into  every  hole  and 
corner.  When  she  found  herself  at  last  rather  warmly 
pursued,  she  climbed  up  the  mast.  Seeing  the  distress 
of  Madame  Clarice,  a  sailor  sprang  up  after  her,  when 
the  cat  leaped  into  the  sea,  where  she  remained.  Her 
mistress  was  in  despair,  she  attempted  to  kill  every 
animal  within  reach  of  her,  and  to  throw  her  waiting- 
maid  into  the  watery  grave  of  her  darling.  We  all 
t<»ok  the  part  of  the  waiting-maid,  and  the  quarrel  be- 
came general.  The  manager  made  his  appearance, 
laughed,  rallied,  and  caressed  the  afflicted  lady.  She 
at  last  began  herself  to  laugh,  and  the  cat  was  forgotten. 
The  wind  was  unfavorable,  and  we  remained  three  days 
at  sea,  always  with  the  same  amusements,  the  same 
pleasures,  and  the  same  appetite.  We  arrived  on  the 
fourth  day  at  Chiozza. 

I  had  not  the  address  of  my  mother's  lodgings,  but 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  Do 

I  had  not  long  to  inquire,  —  Madame  Goldoni  and  her 
sister  wore  a  head-dress  ;  they  were  in  the  rich  class, 
and  known  by  everybody.  I  requested  the  manager 
to  accompany  me  :  he  very  readily  consented,  and  an- 
nounced himself  on  his  arrival.  I  remained  in  the 
antechamber.  "  Madam,"  said  he  to  my  mother,  "  I 
come  from  Rimini;  I  have  news  from  your  son." 
"How  does  my  son?"  "Very  well,  madam."  "Is 
he  content  with  his  situation  !  "  "  Not  remarkably  so, 
madam;  he  suffers  a  great  deal."  "  From  what.'" 
"  From  being  so  far  from  his  tender  mother.  "  "  Poor 
child  !  I  wish  I  had  him  beside  me."  (All  this  was 
heard  by  me,  and  my  heart  beat  within  me.  )  "  Madam," 
continued  the  manager,  "  I  offered  to  bring  him  with 
me."  "  "Why  then  did  you  not  .•  "  "  Would  you  have 
been  pleased  !  "  "  Undoubtedly."  "  But  his  studies  .'  "* 
"  His  studies  !  Could  he  not  return?  Besides,  mas- 
ters are  everywhere  to  be  had."  "  Then  you  would  will- 
ingly see  him  ?"  "  With  the  greatest  joy."  "Here 
he  is,  then,  madam."  On  this  he  opened  the  door,  and 
I  made  my  entrance  ;  I  threw  myself  at  my  mother's 
feet,  who  cordially  embraced  me;  neither  of  us  could 
speak  for  our  tears.  The  actor,  accustomed  to  scenes 
of  this  nature,  after  passing  some  agreeable  compli- 
ments, took  his  leave  of  my  mother,  and  departed;  I 
remained  with  her,  and  frankly  owned  the  folly  I  had 
committed  ;  she  scolded  me  one  moment,  and  caressed 
me  the  next,  and  we  were  quite  pleased  with  each 
other.  My  aunt  was  then  out  ;  ou  her  entrance,  we 
had  a  repetition  of  the  same  surprise  and  the  same 
caresses.     My  brother  was  at  that  time  boarded  out. 

On  the  day  after  my  arrival,  my  mother  received 
a  letter  from  M.  Battaglini  at  Rimini,  who  com- 
municated to  her  my  prank,  of  which  he  complained 


54  MEMOIRS   OF 

bitterly,  and  informed  her  that  she  would  soon  receive 
a  portmanteau,  containing  my  books,  linen,  and  other 
articles,  which  my  nurse  knew  not  what  to  do  with. 
My  mother  was  very  uneasy,  and  disposed  to  scold  me  ; 
but  apropos  of  letters,  she  remembered  that  she  had 
received  a  very  interesting  one  from  my  father;  she 
went  to  look  for  it,  and  put  it  into  my  hands  :  the  fol- 
lowing is  the  substance  of  it. 

"Pavia,  March  17, 1721. 

"My  dear  "Wife,  —  I  have  news  for  you  concerning  our 
dear  son,  which  will  give  you  great  pleasure.  I  quitted  Mo- 
dena,  as  you  know,  to  go  to  Piacenza,  for  the  sake  of  arranging 
affairs  with  my  cousin,  M.  Barilli,  who  still  owes  me  a  part  of 
my  mother's  fortune  ;  and  if  I  can  join  this  sum  to  the  arrears 
which  I  have  just  received  at  Modena,  we  shall  be  able  to  settle 
ourselves  comfortably. 

"  My  cousin  was  not  at  Piacenza  ;  he  had  set  out  to  Pavia, 
to  be  present  at  the  marriage  of  a  nephew  of  his  wife.  As  the 
journey  was  not  long,  I  resolved  on  joining  him  at  Pavia.  I 
found  him,  spoke  to  him,  he  owned  the  debt,  and  matters  are 
arrauged.  He  is  to  pay  me  in  six  years  ;  but  you  shall  hear 
what  has  happened  to  me  in  this  town. 

"On  alighting  at  the  hotel  of  the  Red  Cross,  I  was  asked  my 
name,  for  the  purpose  of  having  it  entered  at  the  police.  Next 
day,  the  landlord  introduced  a  servant  of  the  governor's  to  me, 
who  very  politely  asked  me  to  repair,  at  my  convenience,  to  the 
government  palace.  Notwithstanding  the  word  convenience,  I 
was  far  from  being  at  my  case  at  that  moment,  and  I  was  quite 
at  a  loss  to  conjecture  what  they  could  possibly  want  with  me. 
I  went  first  to  my  cousin,  and  after  our  affairs  were  settled,  I 
spoke  to  him  of  this  sort  of  invitation,  which  disquieted  me  a 
great  deal,  and  I  asked  him  whether  he  was  personally  ac- 
quainted with  the  governor  of  Pavia.  He  told  me  he  was, 
that  he  had  known  him  a  long  time,  that  he  was  the  Marquis 
Goldoni-Vidoui,  of  a  good  family  of  Cremona,  and  a  senator  of 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  55 

Milan.  At  the  name  of  Goldoni,  I  banished  every  fear;  I  con- 
ceived the  most  flattering  ideas,  and  I  was  not  deceived.  I 
went  to  see  him  in  the  afternoon  ;  he  received  me  in  the  most 
respectful  and  gracious  manner.  It  was  my -signature  which 
had  inspired  him  with  the  desire  of  knowing  me.  We  talked 
a  great  deal  ;  I  told  him  that  I  was  originally  from  Modena  : 
he  did  me  the  honor  of  observing  that  the  town  of  Cremona 
was  not  very  distant  from  Modena.  People  came  in,  and  he 
asked  me  to  dine  with  him  next  day.  I  did  not  fail  to  go,  as 
you  may  well  believe  ;  there  were  four  of  us  at  table,  and  we 
had  a  very  good  dinner.  The  two  other  guests  left  us  after 
coffee,  and  the  senator  and  myself  were  left  by  ourselves.  We 
spoke  of  a  number  of  things,  but  principally  of  my  family,  my 
situation,  aud  my  actual  circumstances;  in  short,  he  promised 
to  do  somethiug  for  my  eldest  son.  At  Pavia  there  is  a  uni- 
versity as  famous  as  that  of  Padua,  and  several  colleges,  where 
those  who  have  exhibitions  are  alone  received.  The  marcpuis 
engaged  to  obtain  for  me  one  of  those  exhibitions  in  the  Pope's 
College  ;  and  if  Charles  behaves  himself,  he  will  take  care  of 
him. 

"  "Write  nothing  of  this  to  my  son.  At  my  return  I  shall 
s?nd  for  him.  I  wish  to  have  the  pleasure  of  informing  him 
of  it  myself. 

"  I  shall  not  be  long,  I  hope,"  etc. 

The  contents  of  this  letter  were  quite  calculated  to 
flatter  me,  and  inspire  me  with  the  most  unbounded 
hopes.  I  then  felt  all  the  imprudence  of  my  proceed- 
ing. I  dreaded  my  father's  indignation,  and  I  was  afraid 
lest  he  should  be  inclined  to  distrust  my  conduct  in  a 
town  still  more  distant,  and  where  I  should  be  much 
more  at  liberty.  My  m<  rtiher  inf<  urmed  me  that  she  would 
endeavor  to  screen  me  from  my  father's  reproaches, — 
that  she  would  take  everything  on  herself,  particularly 
as  my  repentance  appeared  sincere.  I  was  reasonable 
enough  in  fact  for  my  age;  but  I  was  apt  to  act  incon- 


56  MEMOIRS    OF 

siderately  at  times.  This  has  done  me  much  injury,  as 
the  reader  will  see,  and  perhaps  he  will  sometimes  be 
inclined  to  pity  me. 

My  mother  wished  to  introduce  me  to  her  acquaint- 
ance ;  but  my  only  dress  consisted  of  an  old  surtout, 
which  at  sea  had  served  me  for  dress,  nightgown,  and 
a  covering  for  my  feet.  She  ordered  a  tailor,  and  I  was 
soon  properly  equipped,  and  in  a  state  to  make  my  ap- 
pearance abroad.  My  first  care  was  to  call  on  my  trav- 
elling companions,  who  were  very  glad  to  see  me. 
They  were  engaged  for  twenty  representations  ;  and  as 
I  received  a  right  of  admission,  I  resolved  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  it  with  the  good  pleasure  of  my  affectionate 
mother.  She  was  very  intimate  with  the  Abbé  Gen- 
narij  a  canon  of  the  cathedral.  This  good  ecclesiastic 
was  rather  a  rigorist.  Plays  in  Italy  are  not  proscribed 
by  the  Roman  church,  and  players  are  not  excommuni- 
cated; but  the  Abbé  Gennari  maintained  that  the  com- 
edies which  were  then  acted  were  dangerous  for  youth, 
in  which  he  was  probably  not  much  in  the  wrong.  My 
mother  therefore  forbid  me  the  theatre.  I  was  obliged 
to  obey  ;  but,  though  I  did  not  go  to  the  representations, 
I  visited  the  actors,  and  the  actress  who  performed  the 
part  of  the  waiting-maid  more  frequently  than  the  oth- 
ers. I  have  always  continued  to  have  a  predilection 
for  those  who  act  that  character. 

In  six  days  my  father  arrived.  I  trembled  all  over  : 
my  mother  concealed  me  in  her  dressing-closet,  and 
took  the  rest  on  herself.  My  father  ascended  the  steps  ; 
my  mother  ran  to  meet  him  ;  my  aunt  did  the  same, 
and  the  usual  embraces  took  place.  My  father  appeared 
chagrined  and  thoughtful,  and  he  had  not  his  usual 
gayety.  They  supposed  him  fatigued.  On  entering 
the  room,  my  father's  first  words  were,  "Where  is  my 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  57 

son  ?  "  My  mother  answered  with  perfect  sincerity, 
"  Our  youngest  son  is  boarded  out."  "  Xo,  no/'  replied 
my  father  in  a  rage,  "  I  want  the  eldest,"and  he  must 
he  here.  In  concealing  him  from  me,  you  are  doiug 
very  wrong;  he  must  be  corrected  for  his  misconduct." 
My  mother  was  quite  at  a  loss  what  to  do  or  say;  she 
uttered  vaguely,  "But  —  how  ?  w  My  father  inter- 
rupted her,  stamping  with  his  feet:  "Yes,  I  have 
been  informed  of  everything  by  M.  Battaglini,  who 
wrote  to  me  at  Modena,  and  I  found  the  letter  in  pass- 
ing through  it."'  My  mother  entreated  of  him,  with  an 
afflicted  air,  to  hear  me  before  condemning  me.  My 
father,  still  in  a  rage,  asked  again  where  I  was.  I 
could  contain  myself  no  longer;  I  opened  the  glass 
door,  but  I  durst  not  advance.  "  Go  out,"  said  my 
father  to  his  wife  and  sister;  "leave  me  alone  with 
this  profligate."  When  they  were  gone,  I  came  for- 
ward trembling:  "Ah,  father!"  "How,  sir!  How 
do  you  happen  to  be  here?"  "Father  —  you  have 
been  told."  "Yes,  I  have  been  told  that,  in  spite  of 
remonstrances  and  good  advice,  and  in  opposition  to 
every  one,  you  have  had  the  insoleuce  to  quit  Rimini 
abruptly."  "What  should  I  have  done  at  Rimini, 
father  1  It  was  lost  time  for  me."  "How,  lost  time! 
Is  the  study  of  philosophy  lost  time?"  "Ah!  the 
scholastic  philosophy,  the  syllogisms,  the  enthymemas, 
the  sophisms,  the  negos  propos  and  concedos  ;  do  you 
remember  them,  father  ?"  (He  could  not  avoid  dis- 
playing a  slight  movement  of  the  lips  which  indicated 
his  desire  to  laugh  ;  I  was  shrewd  enough  to  perceive 
it,  and  I  took  courage.)  "Ah,  father  !  "  I  added,  "  teach 
me  the  philosophy  of  man,  sound  moral  philosophy, 
and  experimental  natural  philosophy."  "  Come,  come  ; 
how   did    you   arrive   here  ?  "      "  By   sea."      "  With 


58  MEMOIRS   OF 

whom  !  n  "  With  a  company  of  players."  "  Players  !  " 
"  They  are  very  respectable  people,  father."  "What 
is  the  name  of  the  manager  V  "  He  is  Florindo  on  the 
stage,  and  they  call  him  Florindo  de'  Macaroni."     "0, 

I  know  him  :  he  is  a  worthy  man;  he  acted  Don  Gio- 
vanni in  the  '  Festin»  di  Pietra  '  ;  he  thought  proper  to 
eat  the  macaroni  belonging  to  Harlequin,  and  that  is 
the  way  he  came  by  that  surname."  "  I  assure  you, 
father,  that  this  company  —  n  "Where  is  the  com- 
pany gone  to?7'  "It  is  here."  "Here?"  "Yes, 
father."  "  Do  they  act  here  ?  "  "  Yes,  father."  "I 
shall  go  to  see  them."  "  And  I  also,  cither  ?  "  "You, 
rascal  !  What  is  the  name  of  the  principal  actress  !  " 
"  Clarice."  "  0,  Clarice  !  —  excellent,  ugly,  hut  very 
clever."  "Father  —  "  "I  must  go  to  thank  them." 
"  And  I,  father  !  »    "  Wretch  !  "    "  I  beg  your  pardon." 

II  Well,  well,  for  this  time." 

My  mother,  who  had  heard  everything,  now  entered  : 
she  was  very  glad  to  see  me  on  good  terms  with  my 
father.  She  mentioned  the  Abbe  Gennari  to  him,  not 
with  the  view  of  preventing  me  from  going  to  the  play 
(for  my  father  was  as  f>nd  of  it  as  myself),  but  for  the 
sake  of  informing  him  that  the  canon,  suffering  under 
different  diseases,  was  anxious  to  see  him  ;  that  he  had 
Bpoken  to  the  whole  town  of  the  famous  Venetian  phy- 
sician, pupil  of  the  great  Lancisi,  who  was  instantly 
expected  :  and  that  he  had  only  to  show  himself  to  re- 
ceive more  patients  than  he  could  desire.  This  is  what 
really  happened.  Everybody  wished  to  have  Doctor 
Groldoni;  rich  and  poor  flocked  to  him,  and  the  poor 
paid  better  than  the  rich.  He  took  more  commodious 
apartments,  and  settled  at  Ohiozza,  to  remain  there  Be 
long  as  fortune  should  continue  favorable  to  him,  or  till 
some  other  physician  in  vogue  should  supplant  him. 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  59 

Seeing  me  unoccupied,  and  in  want  of  good  masters  in 
town.,  my  father  wished  himself  to  make  something  of 
me.  He  destined  me  for  medicine,  and  till  he  should 
have  the  letters  announcing  my  nomination  to  the  Col- 
lege of  Pa  via,  he  ordered  me  to  accompany  him  in  his 
daily  visits.  He  thought  that  a  little  practice  before 
the  study  of  the  theory  would  give  me  a  superficial 
acquaintance  with  medicine,  which  I  might  find  very 
useful  for  the  understanding  technical  terms  and  the 
first  principles  of  the  art. 

I  was  not  over  fond  of  medicine  ;  but  I  durst  not  be 
refractory,  for  I  should  have  been  then  told  that  I  wished 
to  do  neither  one  thing  nor  another. 


III. 

I  was  naturally  gay,  but  subject  from  my  infancy  to 
hypochondriacal  or  melancholy  vapors,  which  threw 
a  dark  shade  over  my  mind.  Attacked  with  a  violent 
fit  of  this  lethargic  disease,  I  sought  for  relief  but  could 
find  none.  The  players  were  gone;  Chiozza  had  no 
longer  any  amusement  to  my  taste  ;  I  was  discontented 
with  medicine,  I  became  gloomy  and  thoughtful,  and 
fell  away  more  and  mere  every  day.  My  parents  soon 
perceived  my  state  ;  my  mother  was  the  first  to  ques- 
tion me.  I  confided  my  uneasiness  to  her.  One  day, 
when  we  were  partaking  of  a  family  dinner  without 
strangers  or  the  presence  of  servants,  my  mother  turned 
the  conversation  to  me.  There  was  a  debate  of  two 
hours.  My  father  was  absolutely  resolved  that  1 
should  apply  to  medicine.  It  was  in  vain  for  me  to 
agitate  myself,  make  wry  faces,  and  look  gloomy,  he 
would  not  yield.  My  mother  at  length  proved  to  my 
father  that  he  was  wrong,  and  she  did  it  in  this  way  : 


60  MEMOIRS   OF 

"The -Marquis  Goldoni,"  said  she,  " wishes  to  take 
our  child  under  his  care.  If  Charles  be  a  good  physi- 
cian, his  protector  may  favor  him,  it  is  true  ;  but  can 
he  give  him  patients  ?  Can  he  persuade  people  to  pre- 
fer him  to  so  many  others  ?  He  may  procure  him  the 
place  of  professor  in  the  University  of  Paviaj  but  then, 
what  an  immense  time  and  labor  before  he  can  get  it  ; 
whereas  if  my  son  were  to  study  law  and  become  an 
advocate,  it  would  be  easy  for  a  senator  of  Milan  to 
make  Ins  fortune  without  the  smallest  trouble  or  diffi- 
culty.-' 

My  father  made  no  answer  :  he  remained  silent  for  a 
few  minutes.  At  length,  turning  to  me,  he  said  jocu- 
larly :  "Would  you  like  the  Code  and  Digest  of  Justin- 
ian ?"  "Yes,  father,"  I  replied,  "a  great  deal  better 
than  the  Aphorisms  of  Hippocrates."  "Your  mother," 
said  he,  "is  a  sensible  woman;  her  reasons  are  good, 
and  I  may  acquiesce  in  them:  but  in  the  mean  time 
you  must  not  remain  idle,  but  continue  to  accompany 
me."  I  was  still  therefore  where  I  was.  My  mother 
then  took  up  my  cause  with  warmth.  She  advised  my 
father  to  send  me  to  Venice  and  settle  me  with  my 
uncle  Indric,  one  of  the  best  attorneys  of  the  capital, 
and  she  proposed  to  accompany  me  herself  and  to  re- 
main with  me  there  till  my  departure  for  Pavia.  My 
aunt  supported  her  sisters  project.  I  held  up  my 
hands  and  wept  for  joy.  My  father  consented,  and  I 
was  to  go  instantly  to  Venice.  I  was  now  contented, 
and  my  vapors  were  immediately  dissipated.  Four 
days  afterwards  my  mother  and  myself  took  our  de- 
parture. We  had  but  a  passage  of  eight  leagues,  and 
we  arrived  at  Venice  at  the  hour  of  dinner.  We  went 
to  lodge  with  M.  Bertani,  a  maternal  uncle  of  my 
mother  ;  and  next   day  we  called  on  M.   Indric,    by 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  61 

whom  we  were  very  politely  received.  M.  Paul  Indric 
had  married  my  paternal  aunt.     It  was  a  charming 

family  :  a  good  husband  and  father,  a  goorl  mother  and 
wife,  and  children  excellently  brought  up.  I  was  en- 
tered in  the  office.  I  was  the  fourth  clerk,  but  I  en- 
joyed certain  privileges  which  my  consanguinity  could 
not  fail  to  procure  me. 

My  present  occupation  was  more  agreeable  than 
that  under  my  father  at  Chiozza  :  but  the  one  seemed 
as  useless  to  me  as  the  other.  Supposing  that  I  should 
be  called  to  the  bar  at  Milan,  I  could  derive  no  advan- 
tage from  the  practice  of  that  at  Venice,  which  is  un- 
known to  all  the  rest  of  Italy.  It  was  impossible  to 
foresee  that  by  a  series  of  singular  adventures  I  should 
one  day  plead  in  the  courts  where  I  then  considered 
myself  a  stranger.  Discharging  my  duty  with  accu- 
racy, and  meriting  my  uncle's  praise,  I  contrived  never- 
theless to  avail  myself  of  the  pleasures  of  a  residence 
at  Venice  and  to  partake  of  its  amusements.  It  was 
my  native  place  :  but  I  was  too  young  when  I  quitted 
it  to  know  anything  of  it  again. 

Venice  is  so  extraordinary  a  city  that  it  is  impos- 
sible to  form  a  correct  idea  of  it  without  seeing  it. 
Maps,  plans,  models,  and  descriptions  are  insufficient  ; 
it  must  be  seen.  All  other  .cities  bear  more  or  less 
resemblance  to  one  another,  but  Venice  resembles 
none  ;  and  every  time  I  have  seen  it  after  a  long  ab- 
sence it  has  been  a  new  subject  of  astonishment  and 
surprise  for  me.  As  I  advanced  in  years,  and  my 
knowledge  increased  and  furnished  me  with  more  nu- 
merous objects  of  comparison,  I  ever  discovered  new 
singularities  and  new  beauties  in  it.  But  I  then  saw 
it  as  a  youth  of  fifteen,  who  could  not  be  supposed  to 
be  struck  with  what  in  reality  was  the  most  remark- 


62  MEMOIRS    OF 

able,  and  who  could  only  compare  it  with  the  small 
towns  which  he  had  lived  in.  What  I  was  most  as- 
tonished at  was  the  surprising  view  which  it  presents 
on  a  first  approach.  On  seeing  the  extent  of  small 
islands  so  close  together  and  so  admirably  connected 
by  bridges,  we  imagine  we  behold  a  continent  elevated 
on  a  plain  and  washed  on  every  side  by  an  immense 
sea  which  surrounds  it.  This  is  nut  the  sea,  but  a 
very  extensive  marsh  more  or  less  covered  with  water 
at  the  mouths  of  several  ports  with  deep  canals, 
which  admit  large  and  small  vessels  into  the  town 
and  its  environs.  If  you  enter  by  the  quarter  of  St. 
Mark  through  a  prodigious  quantity  of  vessels  of  every 
description,  ships  of  war,  merchantmen,  frigates,  gal- 
leys, barks,  boats,  and  gondolas,  you  land  at  the  Piaz- 
zetta  (Small  Place),  where  in  one  direction  you  see  the 
palace  and  the  ducal  church,  which  announce  the 
magnificence  of  the  republic,  and  in  another,  the 
place  or  square  of  St.  Mark,  surrounded  with  porticos 
from  designs  by  Palladio  and  Sansovino.  In  going 
through  the  streets  where  haberdashery  goods  are  sold, 
you  tread  on  flags  of  Istrian  marble,  carefully  rough- 
ened by  the  chisel  to  prevent  their  being  slippery. 
The  whole  quarter  is  a  perpetual  fair  till  you  arrive  at 
the  bridge  of  a  single  arch,  ninety  feet  in  breadth  over 
the  great  canal,  which,  from  its  elevation,  allows  the 
passage  of  barks  and  boats  in  the  highest  tides,  which 
offers  three  different  roads  to  passengers  and  which 
upholds  twenty-four  shops  with  lodgings,  the  roofs  of 
which  are  covered  with  lead.  This  view,  I  own,  ap- 
peared surprising  to  me;  and  I  have  not  found  it 
properly  described  by  travellers.  I  ask  my  reader's 
pardon  if  my  fondness  has  got  the  better  of  me. 
I  shall  not  say  more  at  present  ;  but  I  shall  take 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  63 

the  liberty  of  giving  some  idea  of  the  manners  and 
customs  of  Venire,  its  laws  ami  constitution,  when 
circumstances  shall  lead  me  to  the  subject,  and  when 
my  knowledge  may  he  supposed  to  have  obtained  more 
consistency  and  precision.  I  shall  conclude  this  notice 
with  a  succinct  account  of  its  spectacles.  In  Italy 
their  places  of  public  amusement  are  called  theatres. 
There  are  seven  in  Venice,  each  bearing  the  name  of 
the  titular  church  of  its  parish.  The  theatre  of  St. 
John  Chrysostoin  was  then  the  first  in  the  town, 
where  the  grand  operas  were  represented,  where  Me- 
tastasio  opened  his  dramatic,  and  Farinello,  Faustiue, 
and  Cozzoni,  their  musical  career.  At  present  the 
theatre  of  St.  Benedict  is  highest  in  rank.  The  six 
other  theatres  are  called  St.  Samuel,  St.  Luke,  St. 
Angelo,  St.  Cassian,  and  St.  Moses.  Of  these  seven, 
two  are  generally  dedicated  to  grand  operas,  two 
to  eomic  operas,  and  three  to  plays.  I  shall  ad- 
vert more  particularly  to  all  of  them  when  I  become 
an  author,  in  the  manner  of  that  country:  for  there 
are  none  of  them  which  have  not  had  works  of 
mine,  and  which  have  nut  contributed  both  to  my 
honor  and  profit. 

I  acquitted  myself  tolerably  well  in  my  employment 
with  the  attorney  at  Venice.  I  possessed  great  facility 
in  giving  a  summary  and  abstract  of  a  law-suit,  and 
my  ancle  would  fain  have  kept  me.  but  I  was  recalled 
by  a  letter  from  my  father.  The  situation  in  the 
Pope's  College  had  become  vacant,  and  was  kepi  open 
for  me.  The  Marquis  Goldoni  communicated  the  cir- 
cumstance to  us,  ami  advised  us  to  lose  no  time  in  setting 
out.  My  mother  and  myself  quitted  Venice  and  re- 
turned to  Chiozza.  My  trunks  were  ready  and  corded, 
my  mother  and  my  aunt  in  tears.     My  brother,  who 


64  MEMOIRS   OF 

had  been  taken  home,  wished  to  accompany  me.  The 
separation  was  highly  pathetic;  but  the  chaise  ar- 
rived, and  we  were  obliged  to  part. 

We  took  the  road  of  Rovigo  and  Ferrara,  and 
arrived  at  Modena,  where  we  remained  three  days  in 
the  house  of  M.  Zavarisi,  a  very  respectable  notary  in 
that  town,  and  a  near  relation  of  ours  by  the  mother's 
side.  This  worthy  man  had  all  my  father's  affairs  in 
hand.  He  drew  our  government  annuities  and  our 
house-rents,  and,  having  supplied  us  with  money,  we 
went  to  Piacenza.  My  father,  when  there,  took  care 
to  visit  his  cousin  Barilli,  who  had  not  altogether  ful- 
filled his  engagements.  He  contrived  to  make  him 
discharge  the  arrears  of  the  two  years  which  were 
owing,  so  that  we  were  now  tolerably  well  stocked 
with  ready  money,  which  turned  out  very  useful  to  us 
in  the  unforeseen  circumstances  in  which  we  were 
afterwards  placed. 

On  arriving  at  Milan,  we  lodged  at  the  inn  of  the 
Three  Kings,  and  the  day  following  we  went  to  pay 
our  visit  to  the  Marquis  Goldoni.  It  is  impossible 
to  be  better  received  than  we  were.  My  protector 
seemed  satisfied  with  me,  and  I  was  perfectly  so  with 
him.  The  college  was  spoken  of,  and  the  day  was 
even  fixed  for  my  making  my  appearance  in  Pavia  ; 
but  the  marquis,  on  looking  more  attentively  at  me, 
asked  my  father  and  myself  why  I  was  in  a  lay  dress, 
and  why  I  did  not  wear  the  clerical  band  (petit  collet). 
We  were  quite  at  a  loss  to  know  what  he  meant.  At 
length  we  learned  for  the  first  time  that  to  enter  the 
College  of  Ghislieri,  called  the  Pope's  College,  it  was 
essentially  necessary,  first,  that  those  who  held  exhi- 
bitions should  be  tonsured  ;  secondly,  that  they  should 
have   a   certificate   of  their   civil   situation   and   their 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  65 

moral  conduct  ;  thirdly,  another  certificate  of  their  not 
being  married  ;  and  fourthly,  a  certificate  of  haptisin. 
My  father  and  myself  were  quite  thunderstruck,  for  all 
this  was  new  to  us.  The  senator  conceived  that  we 
ought  to  have  been  informed  of  it,  for  he  had  in- 
structed his  secretary  to  transmit  us  a  note  on  the 
subject  ;  but  this  note  was  still  remaining  in  his  bu- 
reau. This  occasioned  a  number  of  excuses  and  a 
number  of  entreaties  for  pardon  on  the  part  of  the  sec- 
retary. The  master  was  kind,  and  we  should  have 
gained  nothing  in  being  cross. 

But  it  was  necessary  to  remedy  the  mistake.  My 
father  resolved  to  write  to  his  wife.  She  went  imme- 
diately to  Venice,  and  set  on  foot  every  species  of 
solicitation.  The  certificates  of  celibacy  and  good 
morals  were  easily  procured,  and  the  baptismal  certifi- 
cate still  more  so  ;  but  the  great  embarrassment  was 
the  tonsure,  as  the  patriarch  of  Venice  would  not 
grant  dimissorial  letters  without  the  constitution  of 
the  patrimony  ordained  by  the  canons  of  the  church. 
What  was  to  be  done  ?  The  property  of  my  father 
was  not  situated  in  the  Venetian  dominions,  and  my 
mother's  was  entailed.  We  were  obliged  to  apply  to 
the  senate  for  a  dispensation.  What  delays,  contra- 
dictions, and  loss  of  time  !  The  senatorial  secretary 
made  us  pay  dear  for  his  excuses  and  his  blunders. 
There  was  nothing  but  patience  for  us.  My  mother 
gave  herself  a  deal  of  trouble,  and  she  was  at  length 
successful  ;  but  while  she  was  laboring  for  her  son  at 
Venice,  what  were  we  about  at  Milan  ? 

We  remained  fifteen  days  at  Milan,  dining  and  sup- 
ping every  day  with  my  protector,  who  showed  us 
everything  magnificent  in  th.it  city,  which  is  the  capital 
of  Austrian  Lombardy.     I  shall  say  nothing  at  present 


66  MEMOIRS    OF 

of  Milan.  I  have  to  return  to  it  ;  and  I  shall  speak 
more  at  large  concerning  it  when  I  shall  be  more 
qualified  to  handle  the  subject.  In  the  mean  time  my 
cr.stume  was  changed,  and  I  wore  the  clerical  band. 
We  set  out  at  length  for  Pa  via,  well  provided  with 
letters  'of  recommendation.  We  lodged  and  boarded 
in  the  house  of  one  of  the  towns-people,  and  I  was 
introduced  to  the  superior  of  the  college  where  I  was 
to  be  received.  We  had  a  letter  from  Senator  Goldoni 
fur  M.  Lauzio,  professor  of  law;  who  himself  con- 
ducted me  to  the  university.  I  followed  him  into  his 
class,  and  did  not  lose  my  time  waiting  for  my  title  of 
collegian. 

M.  Lauzio  was  a  jurisconsult  of  the  greatest  merit. 
He  possessed  a  very  rich  library,  to  which  I  had  free 
access  as  well  as  to  his  table.  His  wife  was  very  kind 
to  me.  She  was  still  young  enough,  and  must  have 
been  pretty,  but  she  was  terribly  disfigured  by  a  mon- 
strous goitre  which  descended  from  her  chin  to  her 
breast.  These  ornaments  are  by  no  means  rare  at 
Milan  and  Bergamo  ;  but  that  of  Madame  Lauzio  was 
altogether  particular  in  its  kind,  for  it  had  a  small 
family  of  little  .goitres  around  it.  The  small-pox  is 
certainly  a  great  scourge  for  women  ;  but  I  know  no 
young  woman  pitted  with  the  small-pox  who  would 
exchange  her  scars  for  a  Milanese  goitre. 

I  derived  great  profit  from  the  professor's  library. 
I  ran  over  the  institutes  of  Roman  law,  and  fur- 
nished my  head  with  the  matters  for  which  I  was 
destined.  I  did  not  always  confine  myself -to  juris- 
prudence. There  were  shelves  filled  with  a  collection 
of  ancient  and  modern  comedies,  which  were  my  favor- 
ite reading.  I  resolved  to  divide  my  time  between  the 
study  of  law  and  the  perusal  of  comedies  during  the 


CARLO    GOLDONI.  67 

whole  period  of  my  stay  at  Pavia;  but  my  entry  into 
the  college  was  the  occasion  of  more  dissipation  than 
application  ;  and  I  did  well  to  profit  by  the  three 
months  in  which  I  waited  for  my  dimissorial  letters 
and  certificates  from  Venice.  I  reread  with  more 
knowledge  and  greater  pleasure  the  Greek  and  Latin 
poets,  and  I  said  to  myself,  I  wish  it  were  in  my  power 
to  imitate  them  in  their  plans,  their  style,  and  their 
precision  ;  but  I  should  not  be  well  pleased  if  I  did  not 
throw  more  interest  into  my  works,  more  marked  char- 
acters, more  of  the  vis  comica,  and  bring  about  a  more 
successful  termination  of  the  plot. 

"  Facile  inventis  addere." 

We  ought  to  respect  the  great  masters  who  have 
paved  the  way  for  us  in  science  and  art  ;  but  every 
age  has  its  peculiar  genius,  and  every  climate  its  na- 
tional taste.  The  Greek  and  Roman  authors  were 
acquainted  with  Nature,  and  closely  copied  her;  but 
they  exposed  her  unveiled  and  without  restraint.  It 
was  on  this  account  that  the  fathers  of  the  church 
wrote  against  plays,  and  that  the  popes  excommuni- 
cated them.  They  have  been  corrected  by  decency, 
and  the  anathema  has  been  recalled  in  Italy.  It 
deserves  much  more  to  be  recalled  in  France  ;  and 
that  it  is  not  so  is  a  phenomenon  which  I  cannot 
comprehend. 

Rummaging  about  in  this  library,  I  saw  English, 
Spanish,  and  French  theatres;  but  I  found  no  Italian 
theatre.  There  were  here  and  there  old  Italian  pieces, 
but  no  collection  which  could  do  honor  to  Italy.  It 
was  with  pain  I  saw  that  the  nation  which  was  ac- 
quainted with  the  dramatic  art  before  every  other  in 
modern  times,  was  deficient  in  something  essential.     I 


68  MEMOIRS   OF 

could  not  conceive  how  Italy  had  in  this  respect  grown 
negligent,  vulgar,  and  degenerate.  I  passionately  de- 
sired to  see  my  country  rise  to  the  level  of  others,  and 
I  vowed  to  endeavor  to  contribute  to  it. 

But  I  now  received  a  letter  from  Venice,  with  the 
diinissorials,  certificates,  and  baptismal  extract.  The 
latter  was  on  the  point  of  plunging  us  into  a  new  em- 
barrassment. I  was  two  years  under  the  age  requi- 
site for  my  reception  into  the  college.  I  know  not  to 
what  saint  I  was  beholden  for  the  miracle  ;  but  I  do 
know  well,  that  I  went  to  bed  one  night  only  sixteen, 
and  rose  next  morning  two  years  older.  My  mother 
had  address  enough  to  remedy  the  want  of  patrimony 
necessary  to  obtain  the  dimissorial  letters  from  the  pa- 
triarch of  Venice;  they  were  ordered  to  be  issued  by 
M.  Cavanis,  a  secretary  of  the  senate,  on  the  condi- 
tion that  if  I  embraced  the  ecclesiastical  state,  a  rev- 
enue should  be  constituted  in  my  favor.  I  received 
then  the  tonsure  from  the  hands  of  Cardinal  Cusani, 
archbishop  of  Pavia  ;  and  I  went  with  my  father  on 
leaving  his  eminence's  chapel,  to  present  myself  in  the 
college.  The  superior,  called  prefect,  was  the  Abbé 
Bernerio,  professor  of  canon  law  in  the  university,  and 
apostolical  prothonotary,  and  in  virtue  of  a  bull  of 
Pius  V.  he  enjoyed  the  title  of  prelate,  immediately 
subject  to  the  holy  seat.  I  was  received  by  the  prefect, 
vice-prefect,  and  almoner.  They  delivered  to  me  a 
short  sermon,  and  introduced  me  to  the  oldest  of  the 
scholars.  I  was  then  installed.  My  father  embraced 
and  quitted  me,  and  next  day  he  took  the  road  for 
Milan  on  his  way  home. 

Perhaps,  my  dear  reader,  I  abuse  your  complaisance 
too  much,  in  taking  up  your  time  with  trifles,  which 
can  but  little  interest  or  amuse  you;  but  I  have  a 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  69 

strong  desire  to  mention  this  college  to  you,  where  I 
ought  to  have  made  my  fortune,  and  where  I  met  with 
a  sad  reverse.  I  wish  to  avow  my  errors,  and  to  prove 
to  you  at  the  same  time  that  at  my  age  and  in  my  sit- 
uation the  utmost  virtue  was  requisite  to  avoid  them. 
Listen  to  me  with  patience.  We  were  very  well  fed 
and  lodged  in  this  college  ;  we  had  liberty  to  go  out  to 
the  university,  and  we  went  where  we  pleased.  The 
regulation  allowed  two  to  go  ont  together,  who  were 
also  to  return  together.  We  separated  at  the  first 
turning,  after  appointing  a  rendezvous  for  our  return, 
and  when  we  returned  alone,  the  porter  took  his 
money  and  said  nothing.  His  place  was  worth  that 
of  the  porter  of  a  minister  of  state.  We  were  as  ele- 
gantly dressed  as  the  abbes  who  figure  away  in  the 
world;  English  cloth,  French  silk,  embroidery,  lace, 
with  a  sort  of  robe-de-chamhre,  without  sleeves  above 
the  coat,  and  a  velvet  stole  fastened  to  the  left  shoulder 
with  the  Ghislieri  arms  embroidered  in  gold  and  silver, 
surmounted  by  the  pontifical  tiara,  and  the  keys  of 
St.  Peter.  This  robe,  called  sovrana,  which  is  the 
device  of  the  college,  gives  an  air  of  importance  to  the 
wearer  very  well  calculated  to  inspire  a  young  man 
with  a  high  idea  of  himself.  Our  college  was  uot.  as 
you  may  perceive,  a  community  of  boys.  We  acted 
precisely  as  we  pleased.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  . 
dissipation  within,  and  a  great  deal  of  freedom  with- 
out. I  learned  there  fencing,  dancing,  music,  and 
drawing;  and  I  learned  also  all  possible  games  of 
commerce  and  chance.  The  latter  were  prohibited, 
but  they  were  not  the  less  played,  and  that  of  primero 
cost  me  dear. 

On  going  out,  we  looked  at  the  university  at  a  dis- 
tance,  and  contrived  to  find  our  way   into  the  most 


70  MEMOIRS    OF 

agreeable  houses.  Hence  the  collegians  at  Pavia  are 
viewed  by  the  towns-people  in  the  light  of  officers  in 
garrison  towns  ;  they  are  detested  by  the  men  and 
received  by  the  women.  My  Venetian  jargon  was 
agreeable  to  the  ladies,  and  gave  me  some  advantage 
over  my  comrades  ;  my  age  and  figure  were  not  un- 
pleasing,  and  my  couplets  and  songs  were  by  no  means 
ill  relished.  Was  it  my  fault  that  I  did  not  employ 
my  time  well  !  Yes  ;  for  among  the  forty  which  our 
number  consisted  of,  there  were  several  wise  and  con- 
siderate individuals,  whom  I  ought  to  have  imitated  ; 
but  I  was  only  sixteen,  I  was  gay,  weak,  fond  of  pleas- 
ure, and  I  yielded  to  temptation.  But  enough  for  my 
first  year  of  college;  the  holidays  are  approaching; 
they  begin  about  the  end  of  June,  and  terminate  with 
October. 

IV. 
Four  months  of  vacation  !  Sixty  leagues  from  home, 
and  the  same  distance  returning  !  We  paid  no  board 
in  this  college,  but  such  an  expense  was  by  no  means 
a  matter  of  indifférence.  I  might  have  boarded  myself 
in  Pavia,  but  no  student  remained  there  who  did  not 
belong  to  the  place.  The  sovrana  is  not  then  worn  ; 
and  not  having  the  Pope's  arms  on  our  shoulder.-,  it 
•  was  to  be  feared  lest  the  towns-people  of  Pavia  should 
contest  with  us  certain  rights  of  preference  which  we 
had  always  been  accustomed  to  enjoy. 

I  was  certain,  besides,  that  my  mother  would  be 
highly  delighted  to  see  me.  I  resolved,  therefore,  to 
take  my  departure;  and,  being  short  of  money.  I  went 
by  water,  having  for  servant  and  guide  a  brother  of 
the  butler  of  the  college.  The  voyage  was  in  no  way 
remarkable.     I  quitted  Chiozza  in  a  secular  dress,  and 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  71 

returned  in  an  ecclesiastical  one.  My  band  was  not 
much  calculated  to  inspire  devotion;  but  my  mother, 
who  was  piously  inclined,  imagined  she  was  receiv- 
ing au  apostle.  She  embraced  me  withH  certain  de- 
gree of  considération,  and  requested  me  to  correct  my 
brother,  who  was  causing  her  some  uneasiness.  He 
was  a  very  impatient  and  unruly  lad,  who  absented 
himself  from  school  for  the  sake  of  fishing,  and  who  at 
eleven  years  of  age  fought  like  a  devil,  and  cared  for 
nobody.  My  father,  who  knew  him  well,  destined 
him  for  a  soldier  ;  but  my  mother  wished  to  make  a 
monk  of  him,  and  this  was  a  subject  of  continua}  dis- 
pute betwixt  them.  I  troubled  myself  very  little  about 
my  brother.  I  sought  for  amusement,  and  found  none. 
Chiozza  appeared  to  me  more  dirty  than  ever.  I  had 
formerly  a  small  library,  and  I  looked  for  my  old  Ci- 
eognini,  of  which  I  could  find  but  a  part,  my  brother 
having  used  the  rest  in  making  papers  for  his  hair. 

The  Canon  Gennari  was  still  the  friend  of  the  family. 
My  father  had  cured  him  of  all  the  diseases  which  af- 
flicted him,  real  and  imaginary;  and  he  was  more 
frequently  with  us  than  at  home.  I  requested  him  to 
procure  me  some  books,  but  of  the  dramatic  kind  if 
possible.  The  good  canon  was  not  himself  over- 
stocked with  literature,  but  he  promised,  however,  to 
do  what  he  could  for  me;  and  he  kept  his  word.  He 
brought  me,  a  few  days  afterwards,  an  old  comedy, 
bound  in  parchment,  and,  without  taking  the  trouble 
of  looking  into  it,  he  gave  it  to  me,  on  my  promise  t" 
return  it  instantly,  for  he  had  taken  it,  without  saying 
anything,  from  the  closet  of  one  of  his  brethren.  It 
was  the  Mandragora  of  Machiavel.  I  was  not  ac- 
quainted with  it,  but  had  heard  of  it,  and  knew  very 
well  that  it  was  not  the  most  chaste  production  in  the 


72  MEMOIRS   OF 

world.  I  devoured  it  on  the  first  reading,  and  I  pe- 
rused it  at  least  ten  times  afterwards.  My  mother 
paid  no  attention  to  the  hook  I  was  reading,  for  I  had 
received  it  from  an  ecclesiastic  ;  hut  my  father  surprised 
me  one  day  in  my  room  while  I  was  making  notes  and 
remarks  on  the  Mandragora.  He  knew  the  piece,  and 
was  aware  how  dangerous  it  was  for  a  young  man  of 
seventeen.  He  insisted  on  knowing  from  whom  I  got 
it,  and  I  told  him.  He  lectured  me  severely,  and 
quarrelled  with  the  poor  canon,  who  had  merely  sinned 
through  inadvertency. 

I  had  very  good  and  very  solid  reasons  to  urge  as  an 
excuse  to  my  father,  but  lie  would  not  listen  to  me.  It 
was  neither  the  free  style  nor  the  scandalous  intrigue 
of  the  piece  which  fascinated  me;  its  lubricity  even 
disgusted  me,  and  I  could  perceive  that  the  abuse  of 
confession  was  a  heinous  crime  both  in  the  eye  of  God 
and  man  ;  but  it  was  the  first  comedy  of  character 
which  had  ever  fallen  into  my  hands,  and  I  was  quite 
enchanted  with  it.  How  desirable  it  would  have  been, 
had  the  Italian  authors  continued,  after  this  comedy, 
to  give  decent  and  respectable  pieces,  and  to  draw 
their  characters  from  nature  instead  of  the  romantic 
intrigues  in  which  they  indulged.  But  the  honor  of 
ennobling  comedy,  and  making  it  subservient  to  pur- 
poses of  utility,  by  exposing  vice  and  absurdity  to 
derision  and  correction,  was  reserved  for  Molière.  I 
was  yet  unacquainted  with  this  great  man,  for  I  knew 
nothing  of  French.  I  proposed,  however,  to  learn  it, 
and  in  the  mean  time  I  accustomed  myself  to  consider 
men  closely,  and  to  remark  every  appearance  of  origi- 
nality of  character. 

The  holidays  were  now  drawing  to  an  end,  and  my 
departure  became  necessary.     An  abbe  of  our  acquaint- 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  73 

ance  was  going  to  Modena,  and  my  father  availed 
himself  of  the  opportunity.  He  was  the  more  disposed 
to  make  me  take  that  road,  as  I  was  to,  he  supplied 
with  money  in  Modena.  My  companion  and  myself 
embarked  with  the  courier  of  .Modena.  We  arrived  in 
two  days,  and  went  to  Lodge  with  one  of  my  father's 
tenants  who  let  furnished  Lodgings. 

I  had  enough  to  pay  the  expenses  of  posting  to 
Pa  via;  but  not  finding  my  cousin  Zavarisi  at  Modena, 
who  had  orders  to  supply  me  with  some  money,  I 
should  have  been  quite  destitute  on  reaching  college, 
where  those  who  have  exhibitions  require  a  purse  for 
their  pocket  expenses.  I  arrived  in  the  evening  of  the 
same  day  at  Piacenza.'  I  had  a  letter  of  recommenda- 
tion from  my  father  for  Counsellor  Barilli,  whom  I  ac- 
cordingly visited,  and  who  received  me  very  politely. 
He  offered  to  lodge  me  in  his  house;  an  offer  which  I 
very  properly  accepted.  He  was  indisposed  and  de- 
sir  »U8  of  repose,  and  I  was  equally  so, — so  that  we 
made  a  hasty  supper  and  went  early  to  bed.  Reflect- 
ing seriously  on  my  situation,  I  was  tempted  to  borrow 
a  hundred  crowns  from  my  dear  relation,  who  appeared 
so  good  and  kind  to  me;  but  he  no  longer  owed  any- 
thing to  my  father,  having  paid  him  even  before  the 
two  last  instalments  became  due:  and  I  was  afraid  lest 
my  age,  and  my  quality  of  scholar,  should  appear  by 
no  means  calculated  to  inspire  him  with  confidence  in 
me. 

In  this  state  of  irresolution  and  apprehension,  I  went 
to  bed:  but  thank  Heaven!  neither  embarrassments 
nor  chagrins  nor  reflections  have  ever  destroyed  my 
appetite  or  disturbed  my  repuse  :  and  I  slept  soundly. 
Next  morning  the  counsellor  sent  to  inquire  whether  I 
would  breakfast  with  him.     I  was  completely  dressed, 


74  MEMOIRS   OF 

and  on  descending  I  found  everything  ready.  My 
landlord  had  a  dish  of  soup,  and  there  was  a  cup  of 
chocolate  for  me  ;  and.  breakfasting  and  talking  to- 
gether, the  conversation  became  at  last  interesting. 
"  My  dear  child."'  said  he,  "I  am  old,  I  have  had  a 
dangerous  attack,  and  I  expect  every  day  the  orders  of 
Providence  to  take  my  leave  of  this  world."  I  was 
proceeding  to  say  those  kind  things  which  are  usually 
uttered  in  such  cases;  Lut  he  interrupted  me.  "  No 
flattery,  my  friend  :  we  are  horn  to  die.  and  my  career 
is  far  advanced.  I  have  satisfied  your  father,"  he  con- 
tinued, "for  the  remainder  of  the  dower  which  was 
due  from  my  family  to  his  ;  but  on  searching  among 
my  papers  and  the  accounts  of  my  domestic  concerns, 
I  have  found  an  account  opened  between  M.  Goldoni 
your  grandfather,  and  myself."  "  0  heavens,"  said  I  to 
myself,  u  do  we  then  owe  him  anything  I  "  ''I  have  made 
every  examination,"  added  the  counsellor;  "  I  have 
compared  letters  and  books,  and  I  am  certain  that  I 
still  owe  a  sum  to  his  heirs."  I  began  now  to  breathe, 
and  I  wished  to  speak,  but  he  still  interrupted  me  and 
continued  his  discourse.  "  I  should  not  like  to  die," 
said  he,  "  without  discharging  it.  I  have  heirs  who 
only  wait  for  my  death  to  dissipate  the  property  which 
I  have  saved  for  them,  and  your  father  would  have 
some  difficulty  in  procuring  payment.  Ah  !  if  he  were 
here,"  continued  he,  "  with  what  pleasure  would  I  give 
him  the  money  !  " 

'•  Sir."  said  I,  with  an  air  of  importance,  "  I  am  his 
son  ;  '  Pater  et  filins  censentur  una  et  eadem  persona  '  ; 
so  says  Justinian,  as  you  know  better  than  I  do." 
"Aha!"  said  he,  "you  are  studying  law  then?" 
"  Yes,  sir,"  said  I  :  "and  I  shall  be  a  licentiate  in  a 
short  time;  I  shall  go  to  Milan,  where  I  mean  to  fol- 


CARLO  GOLDONI.  75 

low  the  profession  of  advocate."  He  looked  at  me, 
and  smiled  ;  and  then  asked  me  my  age.  I  was  a  little 
embarrassed,  for  my  certificate  of  baptism  and  my  re- 
ception in  the  college  did  not  tally.  I  answered,  how- 
ever, with  assurance  and  without  violation  of  truth  : 
"  I  have  in  my  pocket,  sir,  the  letters-patent  of  my 
college  ;  would  you  wish  to  look  at  them  ?  You  will 
see  that  I  was  past  eighteen  when  I  was  received,  and 
this  is  my  second  year;  eighteen  and  two  are  twenty. 
and  I  am  close  on  my  twenty-first  year  :  '  Annus  in- 
ceptus  habetur  pro  completo  '  :  and,  according  to  the 
Venetian  code,  majority  is  attained  at  twenty-one." 
(I  tried  to  perplex  matters,  but  I  was  only  nineteen.) 
M.  Barilli,  however,  was  not  to  be  duped.  He  clearly 
saw  that  I  was  still  in  my  minority,  and  that  he  should 
be  risking  his  money.  He  had,  however,  a  recom- 
mendation from  my  father  in  my  favor,  and  why  was 
he  to  suppose  me  capable  of  deceiving  him  ?  But  he 
changed  the  discourse  :  he  next  asked  me  why  I  had 
not  followed  the  profession  of  my  nit  her,  and  no  longer 
talked  of  money.  I  answered,  that  I  had  no  taste  for 
medicine  ;  and  immediately  recurring  to  what  was  up- 
permost in  my  mind,  u  Might  I  ask  you,  sir,"  said 
I,  "  what  is  the  amount  of  the  sum  you  owe  my 
father  I n  "  Two  thousand  lire  of  this  country;  the 
money  is  in  that  drawer."  Still,  however,  he  did 
not  touch  it.  "  Sir,"  added  I,  with  a  degree  of  curi- 
osity somewhat  keen,  "  is  it  in  gold  or  silver  ?  " 
"It  is  in  gold,"  said  he,  "  in  sequins  of  Florence, 
which,  after  those  of  Venice,  are  in  the  greatest  re- 
quest. They  ar<-  very  convenient  for  carrying.  Would 
you,"  said  he,  with  a  waggish  air,  "take  the  charge 
of  them  ?  "  "  With  the  greatest  pleasure,  sir,"  replied 
I,  "  I  shall  give  you  a  receipt,  I  shall  inform  my  father, 


7(3  MEMOIRS    OF 

and  account  to  him  for  it."  "  Will  you  dissipate  it  ?  " 
said  he  ;  "will  you  dissipate  this  money?"  "Alas! 
sir."  replied  I,  with  vivacity,  "you  do  not  know  me; 
I  assure  you,  I  am  incapable  of  a  bad  action;  the 
almoner  of  the  college  is  the  treasurer  whom  my  father 
has  appointed  for  my  little  revenue:  and  upon  my 
honor,  sir,  on  reaching  Pavia.  I  shall  place  the  sequins 
in  the  hands  of  this  worthy  abbé." 

"  Well,  well."  said  he.  "  I  shall  rely  on  your  honesty  : 
write  me  a  discharge  agreeably  to  this  draft  which 
I  have  prepared."  I  took  the  pen  :  M.  Barilli  opened 
his  drawer  and  spread  out  the  sequins  on  the  desk.  T 
looked  at  them  with  an  eye  of  affection.  "  Stop,''  said 
he,  u  I  forgot  you  are  travelling,  and  there  are  robbers." 
I  remarked  that  I  travelled  post,  and  that  there  was 
nothing  to  apprehend.  He  was  of  a  different  opinion, 
however,  and  continued  to  insist  on  the  danger.  I 
brought  in  my  guide,  the  brother  of  the  butler,  and 
then  M.  Barilli  appeared  satisfied.  He  delivered  a 
lecture  to  both  of  us.  I  still  trembled.  At  last  he 
gave  me  the  money,  and  I  was  consoled  for  everything. 
The  counsellor  and  myself  dined  together,  and  after 
dinner  the  horses  arrived.  I  took  my  leave,  and  set 
out  for  Pavia.  Scarcely  had  I  entered  the  town,  when 
I  went  to  deposit  the  sequins  in  the  hands  of  my  treas- 
urer. I  asked  six  for  myself,  which  he  gave  )ne,  and 
I  continued  to  manage  the  remainder  of  the  sum  so 
well,  that  I  had  enough  for  the  whole  season  at  college 
and  my  expenses  home. 

This  year  I  was  somewhat  less  dissipated  than  the 
former.  I  attended  to  my  lessons  at  the  university, 
and  seldom  accepted  the  parties  of  pleasure  to  which  I 
was  invited. 

In  October  and  in  November  four  of  my  companions 


CARLO  GOLDONL  77 

wore  licentiated.  In  Italy  no  ceremony  can  take  place 
without  the  decoration  of  a  sonnet.  I  was  supposed 
to  possess  a  faculty  of  versification,  and  -had  become 
the  panegyrist  of  the  deserving  and  undeserving.  Dur- 
ing the  Christinas  holidays  the  Marquis  Groldoni  came 
to  Pavia,  at  the  head  of  a  commission  from  the  senate 
of  Milan,  to  investigate  a  canal  in  the  district  of  Pavia, 
which  had  become  tin-  subject  of  several  lawsuits,  and 
he  did  me  the  honor  of  taking  me  with  him.  Six  days 
afterwards  I  returned  to  the  college,  quite  proud  of  the 
distinction  I  had  received.  This  piece  of  ostentation 
was  highly  injurious  to  me:  it  excited  the  envy  of  my 
companions,  who  from  that  moment,  perhaps,  medi- 
tated the  revenge  which  they  took  the  following  year. 

When  the  holidays  came.  I  was  desirous  of  passing 
them  at  Milan  ;  but  two  countrymen  of  my  own  whom 
I  met  by  chance  in  a  tennis-court  induced  me  to  alter 
my  determination.  These  were  the  secretary  and 
maître  d'hôtel  of  the  resident  of  the  republic  of  Venice 
at  Milan.  This  minister  (M.  Salvioni)  having  quitted 
this  life,  it  became  necessary  for  his  suite  and  equipages 
to  return  to  Venice;  and  the  two  persons  in  question 
were  at  Pavia  for  the  purpose  of  hiring  a  covered 
barge,  in  which  they  offered  to  give  me  a  place.  They 
assured  me  that  the  society  would  be  delightful,  that  I 
should  want  neither  for  good  cheer,  play,  nor  excellent 
music,  and  all  gratis.  Could  I  refuse  such  an  oppor- 
tunity .' 

When  the  company  was  ready  to  set  off.  I  was  Bent 
for;  I  repaired  to  the  banks  of  the  Ticino,  and  en- 
tered the  covered  barge  where  all  were  assembled. 
Nothing  could  be  more  convenient  or  more  elegant 
than  this  small  vessel,  called  burchiello,  and  which 
had  been  sent  for  expressly  from  Venice.     There  was 


78  MEMOIRS    OF 

a  roomy  apartment  and  an  antechamber  covered  over 
with  wood,  surmounted  with  a  balustrade,  lighted  up 
on  both  sides,  and  adorned  with  glasses,  paintings, 
and  engravings,  and  fitted  up  with  cupboards,  benches, 
and  chairs,  in  the  first  stylo  of  convenience.  It  was 
a  very  different  affair  from  the  bark  of  the  comedians 
of  Rimini. 

We  were  in  all  ten  masters  and  a  number  of  do- 
mestics. There  were  beds  under  the  prow  and  under 
the  poop;  but  we  travelled  only  by  day;  and  it  was 
decided  that  we  should  sleep  in  good  inns,  or  when 
we  could  find  none,  that  we  were  to  demand  hospi- 
tality from  the  rich  Benedictines  who  are  in  the  pos- 
session of  immense  property  alone:  the  two  banks  of  the 
Po.  All  these  gentlemen  played  on  some  instrument. 
We  had  three  violins,  a  violoncello,  two  oboes,  a 
French  horn,  and  a  guitar.  I  was  the  only  person 
who  was  good  for  nothing.  I  was  ashamed  of  it,  and 
by  way  of  remedying  my  want  of  ability,  I  employed 
myself  two  hours  every  day  in  putting  in  verse,  either 
good  or  bad,  the  anecdotes  and  agreeable  adventures 
of  the  preceding  day.  This  piece  of  complaisance 
Avas  productive  of  great  pleasure  to  my  travelling 
companions,  and  served  to  amuse  us  after  our  coffee. 
Music  was  their  favorite  occupation.  At  the  close 
of  day  they  ranged  themselves  on  a  sort  of  deck 
which  formed  the  roof  of  our  floating  habitation,  and, 
making  the  air  resound  with  their  harmony,  they 
attracted  from  all  quarters  the  nymphs  and  shep- 
herds of  this  river,  which  was  the  grave  of  Phaeton. 
Perhaps,  my  dear  reader,  you  will  be  incliued  to 
observe  that  I  am  a  little  pompous  here.  It  may  be 
so  ;  but  this  is  the  way  I  painted  our  serenade  in  my 
verses.     The  fact  is,  that  the  banks  of  the  Po  (called 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  79 

by  the  Italian  poets  the  king  of  floods)  was  lined  with 
all  the  inhabitants  of  the  environs,  who  came  in 
crowds  to  hear  us.  The  display  of  hats  and  hand- 
kerchiefs in  the  air  was  a  sufficient  indication  of  their 
pleasure  and  their  applause. 

We  arrived  at  Cremona  at  six  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing. The  inhabitants  had  got  notice  that  we  were  to 
pass  through  that  place  :  and  the  banks  of  the  river 
were  filled  with  people  awaiting  our  arrival.  We 
landed  ;  we  were  received  with  transports  of  joy. 
We  were  ushered  into  a  superb  house  which  was 
partly  in  the  town  and  partly  in  the  country.  We 
gave  a  concert,  and  the  musicians  of  the  town  added 
to  the  pleasure.  We  had  a  splendid  supper,  danced 
the  whole  night,  and.  with  the  sun,  returned  to  our 
barge,  where  we  found  our  mattresses  delicious.  The 
same  scene  nearly  was  repeated  at  Piacenza.  Stellada, 
and  at  the  Bottrigues,  in  the  house  of  the  Marquis 
Tassoni;  and  in  this  manner,  amidst  every  species  of 
delight  and  amusement,  we  arrived  at  Chiozza.  where 
I  was  to  separate  from  the  most  amiable  and  inter- 
esting society  in  the  world.  My  companions  were 
friendly  enough  to  accompany  me.  I  introduced  them 
to  my  father,  who  thanked  them  most  sincerely,  and 
even  urged  them  to  sup  with  him,  but  they  wished  to 
reach  Venice  that  evening.  They  asked  me  for  the 
verses  which  I  had  composed  on  our  voyage.  I  re- 
quested time  to  make  a  fair  copy  of  them.  Ï  promised 
t"  stud  them,  and  I  kept  my  word. 

My  mother  had  formed  an  acquaintance  with  a 
Donna  Maria-Elizabetta  Bonaldi.  a  nun  of  the  convent 
of  Sr.  Francis,  sister  of  M.  Bonaldi.  advocate  and 
notary,  of  Venice.  They  had  received  in  this  convent, 
from  Rome,  a  relic  of  their  seraphic  founder,  which 


80  MEMOIRS   OF 

was  to  be  exposed  with  pomp  and  edification.  For 
this  purpose  a  sermon  was  requisite,  and  Donna  Bo- 
naldi,  on  the  faith  of  my  clerical  habiliments,  believed 
me  moralist,  theologian,  and  orator.  She  was  the  pro- 
tector of  a  young  abbé,  graceful  in  manner,  and  pos- 
sessed of  a  good  memory  :  and  she  entreated  of  me  to 
compose  a  sermon  and  confide  it  to  her  protege,  being 
sure  that  he  would  deliver  it  admirably.  I  at  first 
sought  to  be  excused,  but  afterwards  reflecting  that 
the  panegyric  of  Pius  V.  was  delivered  every  year  in 
my  college,  and  was  composed  by  one  of  the  students, 
I  accepted  this  opportunity  of  exercising  myself  in  an 
art  which  did  not  appear  to  me  very  difficult.  I  com- 
posed my  sermon  in  fifteen  days.  The  little  abbé 
committed  it  to  memory,  and  delivered  it  as  well  as  an 
old  practised  preacher  could  have  done.  The  sermon 
produced  the  greatest  effect  :  the  audience  wept,  ap- 
plauded, and  kept  sideling  upon  their  chairs.  The 
orator  grew  warm,  and  worked  away  with  his  hands 
and  feet.  On  this  the  applause  increased,  and  the  poor 
devil  was  quite  exhausted.  He  called  for- silence  from 
the  pulpit  :  and  silence  immediately  ensued.  It  was 
known  that  I  composed  it,  and  the  compliments  and 
happy  presages  were  numberless.  I  had  highly  flat- 
tered the  nuns,  and  turned  the  discourse  on  them  in  a 
delicate  manner,  ascribing  to  them  the  possession  of 
every  virtue  unblemished  by  bigotry  (I  knew  them, 
and  was  well  aware  that  they  were  not  bigots)  ;  and 
this  was  the  means  of  procuring  me  a  magnificent  pres- 
ent in  embroidery,  lace,  and  sweetmeats.  The  labor 
of  my  sermon  and  the  discussions  which  followed  occu- 
pied me  so  long  that  my  holidays  had  nearly  expired. 
My  father  wrote  to  Venice  for  a  carriage  to  convey  me 
to  Milan.     An  opportunity  immediately  occurred.     My 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  81 

father  and  myself  went  to  Padua,  where  there  was 
a  return  chaise  for  Milan.  The  driver  was  known 
and  could  be  relied  on  ;  and  I  set  out  alone  in  his 
chaise. 

I  alighted  at  the  Marquis  Gtoldoni's,  and  remained 
there  six  days,  till  the  »nd  of  the  holidays.  The  con- 
versation of  my  protector  was  altogether  calculated  to 
inspire  me  with  hope  and  ardor.  I  believed  myself 
on  the  very  pinnacle  of  good  fortune,  while  I  stood 
on  the  verge  of  ruin. 


Y. 

I  learned  at  Milan  the  death  of  the  superior  of  my 
college,  and  I  was  acquainted  with  the  Abbé  Scara- 
belli,  his  successor.  On  my  arrival  at  Pavia,  I  imme- 
diately paid  my  respects  to  the  new  prefect,  who  was 
very  intimate  with  Senator  Goldoni,  and  who  assured 
me  of  his  good  wishes.  I  also  visited  the  new  dean 
of  the  students,  who,  after  the  usual  ceremonies,  asked 
me  if  I  wished  to  maintain  my  civil-law  thesis  this 
year.  He  added  that  it  was  my  turn,  but  that  if  I 
was  not  particularly  desirous,  he  should  like  to  pass 
another  in  my  place.  I  told  him  very  frankly  that  as 
my  turn  was  eome,  I  had  good  reasons  for  availing 
myself  of  it.  as  I  was  anxious  to  finish  my  course  and 
settle  at  Milan.  The  same  day  I  requested  the  prefect 
to  have  the  goodness  to  cause  lots  to  be  drawn  to  ascer- 
tain the  points  I  had  to  defend.  The  day  was  fixed  ; 
the  articles  were  destined  for  me  ;  and  I  was  to  main- 
tain my  thesis  daring  the  Christmas  holidays.  Every- 
thing went  on  charmingly,  and  I  was  considered  a 
spirited  young  man,  desirous  of  acquiring  honor.  In 
the  meau  time  some  amusement  was  necessary.     Two 


82  MEMOIRS    OF 

days  afterwards  I  went  out  for  the  purpose  of  paying 
visits  ;  and  I  began  with  the  house  which  I  was  fond- 
est of.  I  rang  the  bell  (in  Italy  there  are  no  porters) 
and,  on  the  door  being  opened,  I  was  told  that  the  lady 
of  the  house  was  sick,  and  that  her  daughter  received 
no  visits.  I  was  sorry  for  this,  and  a  number  of  com- 
pliments passed  on  both  sides.  I  went  to  another  door, 
and.  on  seeing  the  servant,  asked  if  I  could  have  the 
honor  of  seeing  the  ladies.  "They  are  all  in  the 
country,  sir"  (and  yet  I  had  seen  two  female  heads 
at  the  window).  As  I  could  make  nothing  of  all  this, 
I  went  to  a  third  place,  and  still  nobody  was  at  home. 
I  own  that  I  was  very  much  piqued,  that  I  believed 
myself  insulted,  and  I  could  not  conjecture  the  cause. 
I  resolved,  however,  not  to  expose  myself  to  any  more 
of  those  unpleasant  occurrences,  and  with  a  troubled 
mind  and  enraged  heart  I  returned  home. 

In  the  evening  I  related,  at  the  fireside  where  the 
students  generally  assembled,  with  an  air  of  greater 
indifference  than  I  really  felt,  the  adventure  which  I 
had  experienced.  Some  pitied  me  and  others  laughed 
at  me.  On  the  arrival  of  the  supper  hour,  we  entered 
the  refectory,  and  afterwards  withdrew  to  our  respective 
rooms.  While  1  was  musing  on  the  unpleasant  circum- 
stances which  I  had  experienced,  I  heard  a  knocking 
at  my  .door,  and  four  of  my  comrades  immediately 
entered,  who  told  me  they  had  something  serious  to 
communicate  to  me.  As  I  had  not  a  sufficient  number 
of  chairs  for  them,  we  made  a  settee  of  the  bed.  I 
willingly  prepared  to  listen  to  them  ;  but  all  four 
wished  to  speak  at  once;  each  had  his  story  to  tell, 
and  each  his  opinion  to  give.  The  following  is  the 
substance  of  what  I  could  gather  from  their  account. 

The  towns-people  of  Pa  via  were  sworn  enemies  to 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  83 

the  students,  and,  during  the  last  holidays,  they  had 
entered  into  a  conspiracy  against  us.  It  was  agreed 
on  at  their  meetings,  that  any  girl  who  received  the 
visits  of  a  student  should  never  be  askedjhi  marriage 
by  a  townsman,  and  a  resolution  to  this  purpose  was 
signed  by  forty  of  them.  This  resolution  had  been 
circulated  in  every  house  ;  the  mothers  and  daughters 
had  taken  the  alarm,  and  the  students  had  all  of  a 
sudden  become  a  dangerous  object  in  their  eyes.  The 
general  opinion  of  my  four  companions  was  in  favor 
of  revenge.  I  had  no  yreat  desire  to  interfere  in  the 
business  ;  but  they  treated  me  as  a  coward  and  a  pol- 
troon, and  1  was  foolish  enough  to  consider  my  honor 
at  stake,  and  to  promise  not  to  quit  the  party. 

I  imagined  I  was  speaking  to  four  friends  ;  but  they 
were  traitors  who  ardently  desired  my  ruin.  They 
still  entertained  a  grudge  against  me  for  the  affair  of 
the  preceding  year,  and  they  had  nourished  hatred 
against  me  for  a  whole  twelvemonth  in  their  hearts, 
and  wished  for  nothing  more  than  an  occasion  for  giv- 
ing vent  to  it.  I  was  their  dupe,  but  I  had  scarcely 
entered  my  eighteenth  year,  and  I  had  to  do  with  old 
foxes  of  twenty-eight  and  thirty. 

These  worthies  were  in  the  habit  of  carrying  pistols 
in  their  pockets,  to  the  use  of  which  I  was  an  entire 
stranger.  They  very  generously  furnished  me  with 
them  ;  I  thought  them  pretty,  I  delighted  in  handling 
them,  and  my  head  was  quite  turned.  I  had  fire-arms 
on  me  and  knew  not  what  to  do  .with  them.  Could  I 
dare  to  force  open  a  door  ?  Independently  of  the 
danger  of  such  an  attempt,  it  would  have  been  a  viola- 
tion of  the  rules  of  decency  and  respectability.  I 
wished  to  rid  myself  of  this  useless  encumbrance  ;  my 
good  friends  frequently  came  to  visit  me  and  renew  the 


84  MEMOIRS   OF 

powder  in  the  pan  ;  they  recounted  unheard-of  feats  of 
courage,  the  obstacles  which  they  had  surmounted,  the 
rivals  whom  they  had  vanquished  ;  I,  in  my  turn,  had 
also  sprang  over  harriers,  reduced  mothers  and  daugh- 
ters to  subjection,  and  made  head  against  the  bravos 
of  the  town  ;  we  were  all  equally  veridical,  and  all  of 
us  perhaps  equally  brave. 

When  the  traitors  saw  that  notwithstanding  my 
pistols.  I  did  nothing  to  draw  attention  towards  me, 
they  went  to  work  in  a  different  way.  An  accusation 
was  lodged  with  the  superiors  against  me  of  having 
fire-arms  in  my  pockets,  and  I  was  visited  one  day,  on 
entering  the  college,  by  the  servants,  who  found  my 
pistols  on  me.  The  prefect  of  the  college  was  not  at 
Pavia,  and  the  vice-prefect  ordered  me  to  be  confined 
to  my  room  under  arrest.  I  was  desirous  of  taking 
advantage  of  this  time  to  get  on  with  my  thesis,  but 
my  pretended  friends  still  came  t<>  tempt  me,  and  to 
employ  more  dangerous  means  of  seduction,  as  they  had 
a  tendency  to  tickle  my  self-love. 

"  You  are  a  poet,"  said  they;  "and  you  have  con- 
sequently much  more  sure  and  efficacious  instruments 
for  your  revenge  than  pistols  and  other  fire-arms  :  a 
stroke  of  the  pen,  judiciously  applied,  is  a  bomb  which 
crushes  the  principal  object,  and  of  which  the  splinters 
carry  havoc  right  and  left  among  the  adherents." 
"Courage!  courage!"  they  all  exclaimed  at  once; 
"we  shall  furnish  you  with  singular  anecdotes,  and 
you  will  be  revenged,  and  we  also."  I  was  quite  aware 
of  the  danger  and  inconveniences  to  which  they  wished 
to  expose  me,  and  I  represented  to  them  the  trouble- 
some consequences  which  might  be  the  result.  "  By 
no  means,"  said  they;  "  nobody  will  know  :  we  are  all 
four  good  friends,  and  men  of  honor;  we  promise  to 


CARLO  GOLDONI.  85 

observe  the  utmost  discretion,  and  we  are  willing  to 
take  a  solemn  and  sacred  oath  that  nobody  shall  ever 
learn  anything  of  the  business."  Constitutionally 
weak,  and  occasionally  foolish  and  imprudent,  I  yielded 
to  the  temptation;  and  in  thus  satisfying  the  desires  of 
my  enemies,  I  put  arms  in  their  hands  against  myself. 
My  first  idea  was  to  compose  a  comedy  in  the  manner 
of  Aristophanes;  but  distrusting  the  sufficiency  of  my 
powers,  and  being  limited  besides  in  point  of  time,  I 
composed  an  Atellano,  a  species  of  rude  comedy  among 
the  Romans,  abounding  in  pleasantry  and  satire.  The 
title  of  my  Atellano  was  the  Colossus.  That  I  might 
give  the  perfection  of  beauty  in  all  its  proportions  to 
the  colossal  statue,  I  took  the  eyes  of  Miss  .Such-a-one, 
the  mouth  of  another,  the  neck  of  a  third,  etc.  ;  but 
the  artists  and  amateurs  were  of  different  opinions,  and 
found  defects  everywhere. 

This  satire  was  calculated  to  wound  the  delicacy  of 
several  decent  and  respectable  families,  and,  unfortu- 
nately for  me,  I  contrived  to  give  an  interest  to  it  by 
amusing  and  attractive  sallies,  and  by  traits  of  that 
vis  comica,  which  in  me  had  a  great  deal  of  nature 
and  very  little  prudence.  My  work  was  charming  in 
the  opinion  of  my  four  enemies  ;  they  immediately  sent 
for  a  young  man  who  made  two  copies  of  it  in  one  day, 
which  the  knaves  seized  upon,  and  circulated  in  every 
society  and  coffee-house  of  the  town.  My  name  was 
not  to  be  mentioned,  the  oaths  of  secrecy  were  reiter- 
ated, and  they  kept  their  word,  for  my  name  was  not 
pronounced  ;  but  having  formerlycomposed  a  quatrain, 
containing  my  name,  surname,  and  country,  they  tacked 
this  quatrain  to  the  tail  of  the  Colossus,  as  if  I  had  had 
the  audacity  to  boast  of  it. 

The  Atellano  became  the  novelty  of  the  day,  and 


86  MEMOIRS   OF 

those  who  were  not  implicated  iu  it  laughed  at  the 
work,  while  they  condemned  the  author.  Twelve 
families  cried  for  vengeance,  and  my  life  was  sought 
after  ;  hut  fortunately  for  me,  I  was  still  under  arrest. 
Several  of  my  companious  were  insulted;  the  Pope's 
College  was  hesieged  ;  the  prefect  was  written  to,  who 
returned  precipitately,  and,  wishing  to  save  me,  wrote 
immediately  to  the  Senator  Goldoni.  The  latter  de- 
spatched letters  to  the  Senator  Erba  Odescalchi,  governor 
of  Pavia  ;  the  archbishop  from  whom  I  had  received 
the  tonsure  was  applied  to  in  my  favor,  as  well  as  the 
Marquis  Ghislieri,  by  whom  I  was  named  ;  but  all  my 
protections,  and  all  manner  of  proceedings  were  use- 
less; my  sacrifice  was  inevitable,  and  had  it  not  been 
for  the  privilege  of  the  place  in  which  I  was,  I  should 
have  been  laid  hold  of  by  the  ministers  of  justice.  My 
exclusion  from  college  was  announced  to  me,  and  I  was 
detained  till  the  storm  was  calmed,  that  I  might  take 
my  departure  without  danger. 

What  an  accumulation  of  horror,  remorse,  and  re- 
gret !  My  hopes  vanished,  my  situation  sacrificed,  my 
time  lost  !  Parents,  protectors,  friends,  acquaintances, 
would  all  be  justified  in  taking  part  against  me  ;  I  was 
afflicted  and  inconsolable  ;  I  kept  my  room,  I  saw  no- 
body, and  nobody  came  to  see  me.  What  a  miserable 
state  of  mind,  —  what  a  wretched  situation!  In  my 
solitude  I  was  oppressed  with  grief,  and  filled  with 
objects  which  incessantly  tormented  me,  and  projects 
which  rapidly  succeeded  one  another  on  my  mind.  The 
injury  which  I  had  done  to  myself,  and  the  injustice 
which  I  had  been  guilty  of  towards  others,  were  per- 
petually before  my  eyes  :  and  the  sense  of  this  injustice 
weighed  more  on  my  mind  than  my  own  personal  dis- 
aster.    If  at  the  distance  of  sixty  years,  there  should 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  87 

still  remain  at  Pa  via  some  remembrance  of  my  person 
and  my  imprudence,  I  entreat  the  forgiveness  of  those 
whom  I  offended,  while  I  assure  them  that  I  have  been 
amply  punished  for  my  fault,  and  that  I  believe  it  to 
be  sufficiently  expiated. 

While  I  was  plunged  in  remorse,  and  occupied  with 
these  reflections,  I  received  the  following  letter  from 
my  father,  which  was  a  terrible  augmentation  of  my 
chagrin  and  despair  :  — 

"  I  should  wish  you,  my  dear  son,  to  pass  the  vacation  this 
year  at  Milan.  I  have  engaged  to  go  to  Udiue  in  Venetian 
Friuli,  to  undertake  a  cure,  which  may  occupy  me  some  length 
of  time,  and  I  am  uncertain  but  I  may  also  be  obliged  to  go 
into  Austrian  Friuli,  on  account  of  another  person  suffering 
under  the  same  disease.  I  shall  write  a  letter  of  acknowledg- 
ment to  the  marquis  for  his  generous  offers  to  us,  but  you  must 
also  on  your  part  endeavor  to  merit  his  goodness.  You  inform 
me  that  you  have  shortly  to  defend  a  thesis  ;  endeavor  to  acquit 
yourself  with  honor.  By  this  means  you  will  please  your  pro- 
tector, and  highly  delight  your  father  and  mother,  who  love 
you  dearly,"  etc. 

This  letter  completed  my  degradation.  "  How," 
said  I,  "  shall  I  dare  to  exhibit  myself  before  my 
parents,  covered  with  shame  and  universal  contempt  ! n 
I  was  in  such  dread  of  this  terrible  moment,  that  to 
extricate  myself  from  the  consequences  of  one  fault  I 
meditated  another,  which  might  have  totally  ruined  me. 
"  No  ;  I  will  not  expose  myself  to  the  most  deserved 
and  the  most  cutting  reproaches  ;  no,  I  will  not  appear 
before  my  irritated  family  ;  Chiozza  shall  never  see  me 
more  ;  I  will  go  anywhere  rather  than  return  to  it;  I 
will  run  away,  and  try  my  fortune,  and  either  make 
reparation  for  my  fault,  or  perish.     I  will  go  to  Rome, 


88  MEMOIRS    OF 

where  I  shall  perhaps  find  the  friend  of  my  father  who 
was  so  kind  to  him,  and  who  will  not  abandon  me. 
Ah  !  if  I  could  but  become  the  pupil  of  G  ravina,  the 
man  the  most  versant  in  belles-lettres,  and  the  most 
skilled  in  tin-  dramatic  art.  Ah  !  if  he  should  but  con- 
ceive such  an  affection  for  me  as  he  had  for  Metastasis  ! 
Have  not  I  also  good  dispositions,  talents,  and  genius  ! 
Yes,  I  must  to  Rome.  But  how  can  I  get  thither  ? 
Have  I  money  enough  ?  I  must  go  afoot  —  afoot  !  — 
yes,  afoot.  And  my  trunk  and  my  effects  ?  Let  the 
trunk  and  effects  go  to  the  devil.  All  that  I  want 
is  some  shirts,  some  stockings,  neckcloths,  and  night- 
caps. "  While  occupied  with  these  extravagant  reflec- 
tions, I  kept  filling  a  portmanteau  with  linen,  which  I 
placed  in  the  bottom  of  my  trunk,  destining  it  for  my 
journey  to  Rome. 

As  my  departure  was  to  be  instantaneous,  I  wrote  to 
the  almoner  of  the  college  for  money,  who.  in  his 
answer,  informed  me  that  he  had  no  property  of  my 
fathers  in  his  hands,  but  that,  nevertheless,  the  ex- 
pense of  my  passage  by  water,  and  my  board  to  Chi- 
ozza,  should  be  defrayed  by  him,  and  that  the  provedi- 
tor  of  the  house  would  furnish  me  with  a  small  supply, 
for  which  my  father  should  be  accountable.  At  the 
break  of  the  following  day  a  coach  came  for  me;  and 
after  my  trunk  was  put  into  it,  the  proveditor  entered 
it  along  with  me.  We  drove  to  the  Ticino,  where  we 
got  into  a  small  boat,  and  at  the  place  where  the 
Ticino  flows  into  the  Po,  we  went  on  board  a  large 
and  ugly  bark,  which  had  brought  a  lading  of  salt.  My 
guide  consigned  me  over  to  the  care  of  the  master,  to 
whom  he  whispered  something.  He  afterwards  gave 
me  a  small  packet  from  the  almoner  of  the  college,  and 
after  saluting  me  and  wishing  me  a  prosperous  voyage, 


CARLO    GOLDCOsI.  89 

he  at  last  took  his  leave.  The  first  thing  I  did  was  to 
examine  my  treasure.  I  opened  the  packet.  Heavens  ! 
what  an  agreeable  surprise  for  me:  I  found  in  it  forty- 
two  sequins  of  Florence  (nearly  twenty  louis-d'ors). 
This  was  sufficient  to  take  me  to  Rome,  supposing  I 
travelled  prist  ami  took  my  trunk  with  me.  But  how 
could  the  almoner,  who  had  no  money  belonging  to  my 
father,  confide  this  sum  to  me  ?  While  I  was  occu- 
pie  I  with  these  reflections  and  these  charming  projects, 
the  proveditor  made  his  appearance  again  in  his  boat. 
He  had  committed  a  mistake  :  the  money  given  to  me 
belonged  to  the  college,  and  was  destined  to  pay  a 
wood-merchant;  and  he  took  back  the  packet,  and 
gave  me  thirty  paoli  iu  lieu  of  it,  amounting  to  the  value 
of  about  twelve  shillings  ! 

I  was  now  rich  with  a  vengeance  !  I  did  not  want 
money  for  my  passage  to  Chiozza,  but  how  was  I  to 
manage  my  journey  to  Rome  ?  The  sequins  which  I 
had  been  handling  added  mightily  to  my  mortification  ; 
but  I  was  obliged  to  console  myself  in  the  best  way  I 
could,  and  to  bring  my  mind  to  bear  with  the  inconven- 
iences of  a  pilgrimage.  My  bed  was  under  the  prow, 
and  my  trunk  beside  me  :  I  dined  and  supped  with  the 
master  of  the  bark,  whose  long  stories  were  quite  in- 
sufferable. 

On  the  second  day  we  arrived  at  Piacenza,  where 
the  master,  having  some  business  to  transact,  was  in- 
duced to  land.  This  appeared  to  me  a  favorable 
moment  for  my  escape.  I  took  my  portmanteau,  and 
told  my  gentleman  that  I  was  commissioned  to  give  it 
to  Counsellor  Barilli,  and  that  I  would  take  this  favor- 
able opportunity  to  do  so;  but  the  knave  would  not  let 
me  go.  He  said  he  had  positive  instructions  to  detain 
me  ;  and  when  I  persisted  in  my  intention,  he  threat- 


90  MEMOIRS   OF 

ened  to  have  recourse  to  violent  measures.  I  was 
obliged  to  yield  to  force,  and  stomach  my  chagrin  :  I 
had  no  alternative  but  to  go  to  Chiozza.  or  throw  my- 
self into  the  Po.  I  retired  to  my  nook:  my  misfor- 
tunes had  not  hitherto  drawn  a  tear  from  me,  but  I 
now  wept  bitterly.  "  In  the  evening  I  was  sent  for 
to  supper,  but  refused  to  go.  A  few  minutes  after- 
wards, I  heard  the  words  "  Deo  gratias  "  pronounced 
in  a  pathetic  tone  by  an  unknown  voice.  It  was 
still  tolerably  light  ;  and  on  looking  through  a  crevice 
of  the  door,  I  observed  a  monk,  who  was  address- 
iug  himself  to  me.  I  opened,  and  let  him  in.  He 
was  a  Dominican  of  Palermo,  the  brother  of  a  famous 
Jesuit,  highly  celebrated  as  a  preacher;  and  he  had 
embarked  that  day  at  Piacenza,  and,  like  myself,  was 
bound  for  Chiozza.  He  knew  my  story,  the  master 
having  revealed  everything  to  him  ;  and  he  came  to 
offer  me  the  temporal  and  spiritual  consolation  which 
his  vocation  entitled  him  to  bestow  upon  me,  and 
which  my  situation  seemed  to  require.  He  displayed  a 
great  deal  of  sensibility  and  fervency  in  his  discourse. 
I  saw  him  shed  tears  ;  at  least  I  saw  him  apply  his 
handkerchief  to  his  eyes.  I  was  touched  with  this,  and 
abandoned  myself  to  his  mercy. 

The  master  sent  to  inform  us  that  they  were  wait- 
ing for  us.  The  reverend  father  was  by  no  means 
disposed  to  lose  his  collation,  but,  seeing  me  full  of 
compunction,  he  begged  the  master  to  have  the  good- 
ness to  wait  a  moment.  Then  turning  towards  me,  he 
embraced  me,  and,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  pointed  out 
to  me  the  dangers  of  my  situation,  and  showed  me  that 
the  infernal  enemy  might  take  possession  of  me  and 
plunge  me  into  an  eternal  abyss.  I  have  already  hinted 
that  I  was  subject  to  fits  of  hypochondriacal  vapors,  and 


CAELO  GOLDOXI.  91 

I  was  then  in  a  most  deplorable  situation.  My  exorcist, 
perceiving  this,  proposed  confession  to  me.  I  threw 
myself  at  his  feet.  "God  be  praised  !  "  said  he  ;  "  yes, 
my  dear  child,  prepare  yourself  till  my  return";  and 
he  then  went  and  supped  without  me.  I  remained  on 
my  knees  and  began  a  conscientious  examination  of 
myself.  In  half  an  hour  the  father  returned  with  a 
wax-light  in  his  hand  and  seated  himself  on  my  trunk. 
I  delivered  my  confiteor,  and  went  through  my  general 
confession  with  the  requisite  humility  and  contrition. 
It  was  necessary  to  exhibit  signs  of  repentance  ;  and 
the  first  point  was  to  make  reparation  for  the  injury 
done  by  me  to  the  families  against  whom  I  had  directed 
my  satire.  But  how  was  this  to  be  done  at  present  ! 
u  Till  you  are  enabled  to  retract  your  calumnies,"  said 
the  reverend  father,  "you  can  only  propitiate  the  wrath 
of  God  by  means  of  alms  ;  for  alms-giving  is  the  first 
meritorious  work  which  effaces  sin."  "Yes,  father," 
said  I  to  him,  "  I  shall  bestow  them."  "  By  no  means," 
he  replied;  "the  sacrifice  must  be  instantly  made." 
"But  I  have  only  thirty  paoli."  ''Very  well,  child; 
in  foregoing  the  money  which  we  possess  we  have  as 
much  merit  as  if  we  gave  more.'7  I  drew  forth  my 
thirty  paoli,  and  requested  my  confessor  to  take  the 
charge  of  distributing  them  to  the  poor.  This  he  will- 
ingly acceded  to,  and  then  he  gave  me  absolution.  I 
wished  to  continue  still  longer,  having  some  things  to 
say  which  I  had  forgotten  ;  but  the  reverend  father 
began  to  doze,  and  his  eyes  closed  every  moment  :  he 
told  me  to  keep  myself  quiet,  and  he  took  me  by  the 
hand,  gave  me  his  benediction,  and  hurried  away  to 
his  bed. 

We  were  still  eight  days  longer  on  our  passage  ;  I 
wished  to  confess  myself  every  day,  but  I  had  no  more 


92  MEMOIRS    OF 

money  for  penitence.  I  arrived,  trembling,  at  Chiozza, 
with  my  confessor,  who  undertook  to  bring  about  a  rec- 
onciliation between  me  and  my  relations.  My  father 
was  at  Venice  on  business;  my  mother  saw  me  coming, 
and  received  me  with  tears  ;  for  the  almoner  of  the  col- 
lege had  not  failed  to  inform  my  family  of  the  particu- 
lars of  my  conduct.  The  reverend  father  had  but  little 
difficulty  in  touching  the  heart  of  a  tender  mother;  she 
possessed  ability  and  firmness,  and,  turning  towards  the 
Dominican,  by  whom  she  was  fatigued.  "  My  reverend 
father,''  said  she,  "if  my  son  had  committed  a  knavish 
action,  I  would  never  have  consented  to  see  him  more  ; 
but  he  has  been  guilty  of  a  piece  of  imprudence,  and 
I  pardon  him." 

My  travelling  companion  would  have  wished  that  my 
father  had  been  at  home  to  present  him  to  the  prior  of 
St.  Dominic.  There  was  something  under  this  which 
I  could  not  well  comprehend.  My  mother  told  him 
that  she  expected  my  father  in  the  course  of  the  day  ; 
at  which  the  reverend  father  appeared  satisfied,  and 
without  any  ceremony  he  invited  himself  to  dine  with 
us.  While  we  were  at  table  my  father  arrived,  and  I 
rose  and  shut  myself  in  the  adjoining  room.  On  my 
father's  entrance  he  perceived  a  large  cowl.  "  This  is 
a  stranger,"  said  my  mother,  ''who  demanded  hospi- 
tality." "But  this  other  plate, — this  other  chair?'' 
Ic  was  no  longer  possible  to  be  silent  respecting  me; 
my  mother  wept  ;  the  monk  harangued  ;  he  did  not 
forget  the  parable  of  the  prodigal  son.  My  father  was 
good-natured,  and  very  fond  of  me;  in  short,  I  was  sent 
for,  and  at  last  restored  to  favor. 

In  the  afternoon  my  father  accompanied  the  Domini- 
can to  his  convent.  They  were  unwilling  to  receive 
him,  as  all  monks  who  travel  ought  to  have  a  written 


CARLO    GOLDONI.  93 

permission  from  their  superiors,  which  they  call  obedi- 
ence, and  which  serves  for  a  passport  and  certificate  5 

and  the  one  in  the  possession  of  the  present  applicant 
was  old,  torn,  and  illegible,  and  his  name  unknown. 
My  father,  who  had  credit,  got  him  to  be  received,  on 

condition  that  he  should  not  remain  long.  Let  us  fin- 
ish the  history  of  this  worthy  monk.  He  spoke  to  my 
father  and  mother  of  a  relic  which  was  set  in  a  silver 
watch,  and  he  made  them  fall  on  their  knees  when  he 
showed  them  a  piece  of  cord  twisted  round  iron  wire. 
This  was  a  piece  of  the  lace  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  which 
had  even  served  for  her  divine  Son  ;  and  the  proof  was 
confirmed,  as  he  said,  by  a  miracle  which  never  failed; 
for  when  the  lace  was  thrown  into  the  fire,  the  fiâmes 
respected  the  relie  ;  it  was  drawn  out  uninjured  ;  and  it 
was  then  plunged  into  oil,  which  immediately  became 
miraculous  oil  and  performed  wonderful  cures.  My 
father  and  mother  could  have  wished  to  see  this  miracle, 
but  it  could  not  be  performed  without  preparations  and 
pious  ceremonies,  and  in  presence  of  a  certain  number 
of  devout  persons,  for  greater  edification  and  the  Lrh  >ry 
of  God.  A  good  deal  of  conversation  took  place  on 
this  subject  ;  and  as  my  father  was  the  physician  of  the 
nuns  of  St.  Francis,  he  managed  matters  with  them  so 
well  that  they  determined  to  allow  the  miracle  to  be 
performed  according  to  the  instructions  of  the  Domini- 
can :  and  the  day  and  place  were  fixed  for  the  ceremony 
taking  place.  The  reverend  father  contrived  to  procure 
a  good  stock  of  oil  and  some  money  for  the  masses 
which  were  necessary  for  him  on  his  journey.  Every- 
thing was  executed  :  but  next  day  the  bishop  and  mag- 
istrate having  learned  that  a  religions  ceremony  had 
taken  place  without  permission,  in  which  a  strange 
monk  had  dared  to  put  on  the  stole,  bring  people  to- 


94  MEMOIRS    OF 

gether,  and  boast  of  his  miracles,  proceeded  separately 
to  the  verification  of  the  facts.  The  miraculous  lace, 
which  resisted  the  flames,  was  nothing  more  nor  less 
than  iron  wire  arranged  in  such  a  manner  as  to  deceive 
the  eyes.  The  nuns  were  reprimanded,  and  the  monk 
disappeared. 

My  father  and  myself  took  our  departure  a  few  days 
afterwards  for  Friuli,  and  we  passed  through  Porto- 
Gruero,  where  my  mother  possessed  some  revenue  as 
a  public  creditor.  This  small  town,  un  the  borders  of 
Friuli,  is  the  residence  of  the  Bishop  of  Concordia,  a 
city  of  great  antiquity,  but  almost  abandoned  on  account 
of  the  badness  of  the  air.  Continuing  our  route,  we 
passed  the  Tailliamento,  sometimes  a  river  and  some- 
times a  torrent,  which  must  be  forded,  as  there  are 
neither  bridges  nor  ferry-boats  ;  and  we  at  length  ar- 
rived at  Udine,  the  capital  of  Venetian  Friuli. 


VI. 

My  father  followed  his  profession  at  Udine,  and  I 
resumed  my  studies.  M.  Movelli,  a  celebrated  juris- 
consult, gave  lectures  on  civil  and  canon  law,  in  his 
own  house,  for  the  instruction  of  one  of  his  nephews  ; 
he  admitted  a  few  persons  belonging  to  the  country  to 
his  lessons,  and  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  of  the 
number.  I  own  that  I  profited  more  during  six  months, 
on  this  occasion,  than  I  had  done  during  the  three 
years  at  Pavia. 

I  had  a  great  desire  to  study  ;  but  I  was  young, 
and  required  some  agreeable  relaxation  ;  I  sought  for 
amusements,  and  found  them  of  various  sorts.  Lent 
arrived  :  I  went  on  Ash-Wednesday  to  the  cathedral, 
to  hear  Father  Cataneo,  a  reformed  Augustine,  whose 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  95 

sermons  I  found  admirable.  On  going  away,  I  retained 
the  three  points  of  his  division,  word  for  word;  and  I 
endeavored  to  compress  his  argument,  and  give  an 
idea  of  its  development  and  moral  in  fourteen  verses  ; 
and  in  my  own  opinion  I  made  a  very  tolerable  sonnet 
of  it.  The  same  day  I  went  and  communicated  it  to 
M.  Treo,  a  gentleman  of  Udine,  well  versed  hi  the 
belles-lettres,  who  had  a  great  taste  for  poetry,  and 
my  sonnet  appeared  very  passable  to  him  also.  He 
was  kind  enough  to  correct  a  few  of  the  expressions, 
and  to  encourage  me  to  compose  others.  I  followed 
the  preacher  with  great  exactness,  performed  the  same- 
task  every  day,  and  at  the  close  I  found  I  had  put 
thirty-six  excellent  sermons  into  thirty-six  sonnets  of 
one  kind  or  another.  I  had  taken  the  precaution  of 
sending  them  to  the  press  as  soon  as  I  had  sufficient 
materials  for  a  sheet  in  quarto,  and  during  Easter  week 
I  published  my  pamphlet,  which  was  dedicated  to  the 
deputies  of  the  town.  I  was  overpowered  with  thanks 
from  the  orator,  and  received  many  acknowledgments, 
and  a  great  deal  of  applause  from  the  first  magistrates. 
The  novelty  of  the  thing  gave  pleasure,  and  the  rapid- 
ity of  the  execution  was  still  more  surprising. 

My  father  was  at  Gorizia,  in  the  house  of  his  illus- 
trious patient  Count  Lantieri,  lieutenant-general  in  the 
army  of  the  Emperor  Charles  the  Sixth,  and  inspector 
of  the  Austrian  troops  in  Carniola  and  German  Friuli. 
I  was  very  well  received  by  that  amiable  nobleman, 
who  was  the  delight  of  his  country.  We  did  not 
remain  long  at  Gorizia,  but  passed  immediately  to 
Yipack,  a  very  considerable  market  town  in  Carniola, 
at  the  source  of  a  river  from  which  it  takes  its  name, 
and  a  fief  of  the  house  of  Lantieri.  We  passed  four 
months  there  in  the  most  agreeable  manner  possible. 


96  MEMOIRS    OF 

The  nobility  of  that  country  pay  their  visits  in  whole 
families;  fathers,  children,  masters,  servants,  horses, 
all  set  oft'  at  once,  and  all  are  received  and  lodged. 
Thirty  masters  may  be  frequently  seen,  sometimes  in 
one  house,  and  sometimes  in  another  ;  but  as  Count 
Lantieri  was  accounted  valetudinary,  he  went  no- 
where and  received  everybody.  His  table  was  not 
delicately  but  abundantly  served.  I  still  remember 
a  dish  of  roast,  which  was  the  etiquette;  a  foreleg  of 
mutton,  or  venison,  or  a  breast  of  veal,  constituted  the 
base  of  it  ;  above  this  there  were  hares  or  pheasants  ; 
with  red  and  gray  partridges  again  above  them,  and 
next  woodcocks  or  snipes  or  thrushes  ;  and  the  pyra- 
mid ended  with  larks  and  fig-peckers. 

This  strange  assemblage  was  immediately  shared 
out  and  distributed.  The  small  birds  were  served  up 
on  their  arrival  :  every  one  laid  hold  of  the  game  to 
cut  it  up  :  and  the  amateurs  of  meat  saw  the  large 
pieces  which  were  most  to  their  taste  uncovered  before 
them.  It  was  also  the  etiquette  to  serve  up  three  sorts 
of  soup  at  each  repast  :  bread  soup  with  the  ragouts  : 
an  herb  soup  with  the  first  service,  and  peeled  barley 
with  the  entremets  :  this  barley  was  moistened  with  the 
gravy  of  the  roast  meat,  and  I  was  told  that  it  was 
good  for  digestion. 

What  was  most  troublesome  to  me  was  the  healths 
which  we  were  every  moment  obliged  to  drink.  On 
St  Charles's  day  they  began  with  his  impérial  maj- 
esty, and  each  guest  was  presented  with  a  drinking 
vessel  of  a  very  singular  kind  ;  it  was  a  glass  machine 
of  a  foot  in  length,  composed  of  different  balls,  which 
diminished  progressively,  and  were  separated  from  one 
another  by  small  tubes,  and  which  were  terminated  by 
a  longitudinal  aperture,  that  could  be   very  conven- 


CARLO  GOLDONI.  97 

iently  applied  to  the  mouth,  and  through  which  the 
liquor  issued;  the  bottom  of  this  machine,  called  the 
glo-glo,  was  tilled,  and  on  placing  the  top  to  the  mouth, 
and  raising  the  elbow,  the  wine  which  passed  through 
the  different  tubes  and  balls,  rendered  a  harmonious 
sound  ;  and  all  the  guests  performing  the  same  opera- 
tion at  the  same  time,  made  a  concert  of  a  very  new 
and  pleasant  sort.  I  know  not  whether  the  same 
customs  are  still  observed  in  that  country  ;  everything 
changes,  and  everything  may  be  there  changed  ;  but 
if  in  those  cantons  there  be  yet  any  persons  of  the 
olden  times,  like  me,  they  may  perhaps  be  glad  to 
have  this  brought  to  their  recollection. 

Count  Lantieri  was  very  well  satisfied  with  my  father, 
for  he  was  greatly  recovered,  and  almost  completely 
cured  ;  his  kindness  was  also  extended  to  me,  and  to 
procure  amusement  for  me,  he  caused  a  puppet-show, 
which  was  almost  abandoned,  and  which  was  very  rich 
in  figures  and  decorations,  to  be  refitted.  I  profited  by 
this,  and  amused  the  company  by  giving  them  a  piece 
of  a  great  man,  expressly  composed  for  wooden  come- 
dians. This  was  the  Sneezing  of  Hercules,  by  Peter 
James  Martelli,  a  Bolognese. 

This  celebrated  man  was  the  only  person  who  could 
have  left  us  a  complete  theatre,  if  he  had  not  possessed 
the  folly  of  attempting  a  new  species  of  versification 
for  the  Italians;  verses  of  fourteen  syllables,  and  rhymed 
by  couplets  nearly  like  the  French  verses.  I  shall  speak 
of  these  Martellian  verses  in  the  second  part  of  the 
Memoirs;  for  notwithstanding  their  proscription,  I 
took  it  into  my  head  to  be  pleased  with  them  fifty 
years  after  the  death  of  their  author. 

Martelli  published,  in  six  volumes,  dramatical  com- 
positions of  every  possible  description,  from  the  most 


98  MEMOIRS   OF 

severe  tragedy  to  the  puppet-show  called  Bambocciata 
by  him,  of  which  the  title  was  the  Sneezing  of  Hercules. 
The  imagination  of  the  author  sent  Hercules  into  the 
country  of  the  pygmies.  Those  poor  little  creatures, 
frightened  at  the  aspect  of  an  animated  mountain  with 
legs  and  arms,  ran  and  concealed  themselves  in  holes. 
One  day  as  Hercules  had  stretched  himself  out  in  the 
open  field,  and  was  sleeping  tranquilly,  the  timid  in- 
habitants issued  out  of  their  retreats,  and,  armed  with 
prickles  and  rushes,  mounted  on  the  monstrous  man, 
and  covered  him  from  head  to  foot,  like  flies  when  they 
fall  on  a  piece  of  rotten  meat.  Hercules  waked,  and 
felt  something  in  his  nose  which  made  him  sneeze  ;  on 
which  his  enemies  tumbled  down  in  all  directions. 
This  ends  the  piece.  There  is  a  plan,  a  progression, 
an  intrigue,  a  catastrophe,  and  winding  up  ;  the  style 
is  good  and  well  supported  ;  the  thoughts  and  senti- 
ments are  all  proportionate  to  the  size  of  the  person- 
ages. The  verses  even  are  short,  and  everything  indi- 
cates pygmies.  A  gigantic  puppet  was  requisite  for 
Hercules  ;  everything  was  well  executed.  The  enter- 
tainment was  productive  of  much  pleasure  ;  and  I  could 
lay  a  bet  that  I  am  the  only  person  who  ever  thought 
of  executing  the  Bambocciata  of  Martelli. 

Our  representations  over,  and  Count  Lantieri's  cure 
still  going  on  better  and  better,  my  father  began  to 
speak  of  returning  home.  I  was  at  the  same  time 
invited  to  make  a  tour  along  with  the  secretary  of  the 
count,  who  was  charged  with  commissions  for  his 
master.  My  father  allowed  me  an  absence  of  fifteen 
days  :  and  we  set  out  by  post  in  a  small  four-wheeled 
chariot.  We  first  arrived  at  Laubec,  the  capital  of 
Carnioli,  on  the  river  of  the  same  name.  I  saw  noth- 
ing  extraordinary   there    but    crawfish   of  surprising 


CARLO   GOLDONI.  99 

beauty  and  as  large  as  lobsters,  as  some  of  them  were  a 
foot  in  length.  From  thence  we  passed  to  Gratz,  the 
capital  of  Styria,  where  there  is  a  very  ancient  and  very 
celebrated  university,  much  better  frequented  than  that 
of  Pavia,  as  the  Germans  are  much  more  studious  and 
less  dissipated  than  the  Italians.  I  could  have  wished 
to  extend  my  journey  as  far  as  Prague  ;  but  my  com- 
panion and  myself  were  both  limited,  he  by  the  orders 
of  his  master,  and  I  by  those  of  my  father.  All  that 
we  could  do  was  not  to  return  by  the  same  road  :  we 
traversed  Carinthia  ;  we  saw  Trieste,  a  considerable 
seaport  on  the  Adriatic  Sea  ;  from  thence  we  passed 
through  Aquileia  and  Gradisca,  and  returned  to  Yipack 
two  days  later  than  the  time  prescribed  us. 

Immediately  on  my  return  my  father  took  his  leave 
of  Count  Lantieri,  who,  as  a  recompense  for  his  care, 
made  him  a  present  of  a  very  handsome  sum  of  money, 
adding  a  very  pretty  box  with  his  portrait  and  a  silver 
watch  for  myself.  A  young  man  in  those  times  was 
glad  to  have  a  silver  watch,  and  now  the  lackeys  will 
not  deign  to  carry  them. 


VII. 

On  our  arrival  at  Chiozza  we  were  received  as  a 
mother  receives  her  dear  son,  as  a  wife  receives  her 
dear  husband  after  a  long  absence.  I  was  delighted  to 
see  again  that  virtuous  mother  who  was  so  tenderly  at- 
tached to  me  ;  my  mother  and  myself  were  very  partial 
to  each  other;  but  how  different  the  love  of  a  mother 
for  her  son  from  that  of  a  son  for  his  mother  !  Children 
love  from  gratitude  ;  but  mothers  love  by  a  natural 
impulse,  and  self-love  has  not  a  less  share  in  their  ten- 
der friendship;  they  love   the  fruits  of  their  conjugal 


100  MEMOIRS    OF 

union,  conceived  by  them  with  satisfaction,  carried  by 
them  with  pain  in  their  bosom,  and  brought  into  the 
world  with  so  much  suffering.  They  have  seen  them 
grow  up  from  day  to  day  ;  they  have  enjoyed  the  first 
display  of  their  innocence  ;  they  have  been  accustomed 
to  see  them,  to  love  them,  to  watch  over  them.  I 
am  even  disposed  to  believe  that  the  last  reason  is  the 
strongest  of  all,  and  that  a  mother  would  not  be  less 
fond  of  a  child  changed  at  nurse  than  of  her  own,  pro- 
vided she  had  bona  fide  received  it  for  her  own,  had 
taken  care  of  its  first  education,  and  been  accustomed 
to  caress  and  cherish  it. 

This  is  a  digression  foreign  to  these  memoirs,  but  I 
like  to  gossip  occasionally  ;  and  without  hunting  for 
fine  things,  nothing  interests  me  more  than  the  analysis 
of  the  human  heart.  But  to  resume  the  thread  of  our 
discourse. 

My  father  received  a  letter  from  his  cousin  Zavarisi, 
a  notary  at  Modena,  to  the  following  import  :  The 
duke  had  renewed  an  ancient  edict  by  which  every  pos- 
sessor of  rents  and  real  property  was  prohibited  from 
absenting  himself  from  his  dominions  without  permis- 
sion, and  these  permissions  cost  a  great  deal.  M.  Zava- 
risi added  in  his  letter,  that  as  my  views  respecting 
Milan  had  failed,  it  would  be  advisable  for  my  father  to 
send  me  to  Modena,  in  which  there  was  a  university  as 
at  Pavia,  where  I  might  finish  my  legal  studies,  receive 
a  license,  and  afterwards  be  entered  as  an  advocate  ! 
This  worthy  relation,  who  was  sincerely  attached  to  us, 
put  my  father  in  mind  that  his  ancestors  had  always 
held  distinguished  places  in  the  duchy  of  Modena  ;  that 
I  might  revive  the  ancient  credit  of  our  family,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  save  the  expense  of  a  permission,  which 
would  require  to  be  renewed    every  two  years.      He 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  lUl 

concluded  with  telling  us  that  he  would  take  care  of 
my  person,  and  that  lie  would  see  that  I  should  he 
comfortably  and  respectably  hoarded.  In  a  postscript 
he  mentioned  that  he  had  a  good  marriage  in  view  for 

me.  This  letter  gave  rise  to  endless  reasonings  for  and 
against  between  my  father  and  mother.  The  master, 
however,  carried  the  point,  and  it  was  decided  that  I 
should  instantly  depart  with  the  courier  of  Modena. 

At  Venice  there  are  couriers  who  travel  and  couriers 
who  do  not  travel.  The  former  are  called  couriers  of 
Rome,  as  they  ordinarily  go  only  to  Rome  and  Milan, 
though  at  other  times  they  are  despatched  wherever 
the  republic  may  want  them.  Their  number  is  fixed 
at  thirty-two,  and  they  enjoy  a  certain  consideration  in 
the  community.  But  with  respect  to  the  other  couriers 
the  case  is  very  different  ;  they  are  merely  conductors 
of  packet-boats,  paid  by  those  who  respectively  farm 
them.  They  are  enabled,  however,  to  improve  their 
fortune  by  availing  themselves  of  nooks  in  their  boats 
for  the  concealment  of  parcels.  These  packet-boats, 
which  are  five  in  number,  are  very  convenient.  They 
set  out  for  Ferrara,  Bologna,  Modena,  Mantua,  and 
Florence  ;  the  passengers  are  boarded  in  various  styles, 
according  to  their  wishes,  and  the  price  is  very  moder- 
ate. There  is  but  one  trifling  inconvenience,  that  in 
the  same  voyage  the  bark  is  three  times  changed. 
Every  state  through  which  the  couriers  pass  claims 
the  right  of  employing  their  own  boats  and  crew,  aud 
the  different  contiguous  states  have  never  fallen  upon 
an  arrangement  favorable  for  the  common  interest 
without  incommoding  passengers.  I  could  wish  the 
masters  of  the  Po  to  read  my  memoirs,  and  to  profit 
by  my  advice. 

1  entered  the  packet-boat  of  Modena  ;  we  were  four- 


102  MEMOIRS    OF 

teen  passengers  :  our  conductor,  named  Bastia,  was  a 
very  aged  and  spare  man,  of  a  severe  physiognomy, 
"but  a  very  respectable  man,  and  even  devout  withal. 
We  took  our  first  dinner  all  of  us  together  at  the  inn, 
where  the  master  procured  the  necessary  provisions  for 
our  supper,  which  was  to  be  taken  on  our  passage.  At 
nightfall  two  lamps  diffused  a  light  everywhere,  and 
the  courier  then  made  his  appearance  in  the  midst  of 
us  with  a  ehaplet  in  his  hands  and  begged  and  exhorted 
us  very  politely  to  recite  along  with  him  aloud  a  third 
part  of  a  rosary  and  the  litanies  of  the  Virgin.  We  all 
gave  our  assent  to  the  pious  request  of  the  good  man 
Bastia,  and  ranged  ourselves  in  two  rows  to  divide  the 
pater-nosters  and  ave-marias,  which  we  recited  with 
becoming  devotion.  In  a  corner  of  the  boat  there 
were  three  of  our  travellers  who  sat  with  their  hats  on 
and  kept  laughiug  and  mimicking  us.  Bastia,  having 
perceived  this,  requested  the  three  gentlemen  to  observe 
good  manners  at  least,  if  they  were  not  disposed  to  be 
devout.  The  three  unknown  persons  on  this  laughed 
full  in  his  face.  The  courier  was  vexed,  but  said  noth- 
ing further,  as  he  knew  not  whom  he  had  to  do  with  ; 
but  a  sailor,  who  recognized  them,  told  the  courier 
they  were  three  Jews.  Bastia's  fury  exceeded  all 
bounds,  and  he  cried  out  like  a  mad  person,  "  What! 
you  are  Jews,  and  at  dinner  you  ate  bacon  !  "  At  this 
unexpected  sally  everybody  began  to  laugh,  and  the 
Jews  as  well  as  the  rest.  The  courier  continued,  "  I 
pity  those  who  are  so  unfortunate  as  not  to  know  our 
religion  ;  but  I  despise  those  who  observe  none.  You 
ate  bacon  ;  you  are  knaves."  The  Jews  iu  a  fury 
threw  themselves  on  the  courier  :  we  took  the  reason- 
able part  of  defending  him,  and  we  forced  the  Israelites 
to  keep  by  themselves.     Our  rosary,  thus  interrupted, 


CARLO  GOLDONL  103 

was  postponed  to  the  following  day.     We  supped  with 

tolerable  gayety,  and  we  went  to  sleep  on  our  little 
mattresses.  Nothing  extraordinary  took  place  during 
the  remainder  of  the  voyage. 

On  approaching  Modena,  Bastia  asked  me  where  1 
meant  to  lodge.  I  knew  not  myself,  as  M.  Zavarisi 
was  to  find  me  out  a  boarding-house.  Bastia  requested 
me  to  board  with  him  ;  he  was  acquainted  with  M. 
Zavarisi,  and  he  flattered  himself  that  it  would  meet 
with  his  approbation.  This  was  actually  the  case  ; 
and  I  went  to  lodge  with  the  courier.  It  was  a  most 
sanctified  house  :  father,  sons,  daughters,  daughter-in- 
law,  and  children  were  all  possessed  of  the  greatest 
devotion.  I  found  no  amusement  with  them  ;  but  as 
they  were  honest  people,  who  lived  prudently  and 
tranquilly,  I  was  very  well  pleased  with  their  atten- 
tions; and  people  are  always  estimable  when  they 
fulfil  their  social  duties.  My  cousin  Zavarisi,  well 
pleased  to  have  me  beside  him,  first  presented  me  to 
the  rector  of  the  university,  and  took  me  afterwards  to 
the  house  of  a  celebrated  advocate  of  the  country, 
where  I  was  to  become  acquainted  with  the  practice 
of  the  law,  and  where  I  instantly  took  my  place.  In 
this  study  there  was  a  nephew  of  the  celebrated  Mura- 
tori,  who  procured  me  the  acquaintance  of  his  uncle,  a 
man  of  universal  talents,  who  was  an  honor  to  his  na- 
tion and  age,  and  who  would  have  been  cardinal  if  he 
had  been  less  strenuous  in  his  writings  in  favor  of  the 
house  of  Este. 

My  new  companion  showed  me  everything  most  cu- 
rious in  the  town  ;  and,  among  other  things,  the  ducal 
palace,  which  was  extremely  beautiful  and  magnificent, 
and  which  contained  the  valuable  collection  of  pictures 
then  at  Modena,  but  since  purchased  by  the  King  of 


104  MEMOIRS   OF 

Poland  for  the  sum  of  a  hundred  thousand  sequins.  I 
was  curious  to  see  the  famous  bucket,  the  subject  of 
the  Secchia  Rappita  of  Tassoni  :  I  saw  it  in  the 
steeple  of  the  cathedral,  where  it  is  suspended  by  an 
iron  chain.  I  contrived  to  amuse  myself  tol<  rahly 
well;  and  I  believe  the  residence  at  Modena  would 
have  suited  me  well,  both  on  account  of  the  literary 
societies  which  abound  there,  and  on  account  of  the 
spectacles,  which  are  very  frequent,  and  the  hope  which 
I  had  of  repairing  my  losses. 

But  a  frightful  scene  which  I  witnessed  a  few  days 
after  my  arrival,  a  horrible  ceremony,  a  piece  of  pomp 
of  religious  jurisdiction,  struck  me  so  much,  that  my 
mind  was  troubled  and  my  senses  agitated  !  I  saw  in 
the  middle  of  a  crowd  of  people,  a  scaffold  elevated  to 
the  height  of  five  feet,  on  which  a  man  appeared  with 
his  head  uncovered  and  his  hands  tied.  This  was  an 
abbé  of  my  acquaintance,  an  enlightened  literary  man, 
a  celebrated  poet,  well  known  and  highly  esteemed  in 

Italy  ;    it   was  the  Abbé  J B V .     One 

monk  held  a  book  in  his  hand;  another  interrogated 
the  sufferer,  who  answered  haughtily.  The  spectators 
clapped  with  their  hands,  and  encouraged  him:  the 
reproaches  augmented;  the  man  subjected  to  this  piece 
of  degradation  trembled  with  rage  :  I  could  bear  the 
scene  no  longer.  I  went  off  in  a  state  of  thoughtful- 
ness  and  agitation,  and  quite  stunned  ;  my  vapors  in- 
stantly attacked  me  :  I  returned  home,  and  shut  myself 
up  in  my  room,  plunged  in  the  most  dismal  and  humil- 
iating reflections  for  humanity.  "  Good  God  !  "  said  I 
to  myself,  "to  what  are  we  subject  in  this  short  life, 
which  we  are  obliged  to  drag  out  ?  Here  is  a  man  ac- 
cused of  uttering  improper  language  to  a  woman  who 
had  been  taking  the  sacrament.    Who  denounced  him? 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  105 

The  woman  herself.  Heavens  î  is  not  misfortune  alone 
a  sufficient  punishment  ?  n 

Whilst  I  was  indulging  my  sad  reveries,  Father 
Bastia,  knowing  of  my  return,  came  to  propose  to  me 
to  join  his  family  in  reciting  the  rosary.  I  required 
something  to  relieve  my  mind,  and  I  accepted  the  pro- 
posal with  pleasure.  I  said  my  rosary  with  devotion, 
and  I  found  my  consolation  in  it.     Supper  was  served 

up,  and  the  Abbé  V was  spoken  of.     I  marked  the 

horror  which  I  felt  for  that  spectacle  ;  "my  host,  who 
was  of  the  secular  society  of  that  jurisdiction,  consid- 
ered the  ceremony  superb  and  exemplary.  I  asked 
him  how  the  spectacle  terminated.  He  told  me  that 
his  pride  had  at  length  been  humbled  ;  that  his  obsti- 
nacy had  at  length  yielded  ;  that  he  was  obliged  to 
avow  with  a  loud  voice  all  his  crimes,  to  recite  a  for- 
mula of  retractation  presented  to  him,  and  that  he  was 
condemned  to  six  years'  imprisonment.  The  terrible 
aspect  of  this  man  under  his  ignominious  treatment 
never  quitted  me.  I  saw  no  one  ;  I  went  to  mass 
every  day  with  Bastia:  I  went  to  sermon  and  to 
prayers  with  him  ;  he  was  quite  contented  with  me, 
and  endeavored  to  nourish  in  me  that  unction  which 
appeared  in  my  actions  and  my  discourse,  by  accounts 
of  visions,  miracles,  and  conversions.  My  resolution 
was  taken,  and  I  was  firmly  resolved  to  enter  the  order 
of  Capuchins.  I  wrote  to  my  father  a  very  labored 
letter,  which,  however,  was  destitute  of  common-sense. 
I  requested  his  permission  to  renounce  the  world,  and 
envelope  myself  in  a  cowL  My  father,  who  was  no 
fool,  took  care  not  to  oppose  me:  he  flattered  me  a 
great  deal  ;  he  seemed  satisfied  with  the  inspiration  I 
displayed,  and  merely  begged  me  to  join  him  immedi- 
ately on  the  receipt  of  his  letter,  promising  me  that  he 


106  MEMOIRS    OF 

himself  and  my  mother  wished  for  nothing  more  than 
to  see  me  satisfied.' 

At  sight  of  this  answer,  I  prepared  for  my  departure. 
Bastia,  who  did  not  that  day  take  the  charge  of  the 
hark  for  Venice,  recommended  me  to  his  comrade,  who 
was  to  perform  the  voyage.  I  bade  adieu  to  the  de- 
vout family  ;  I  begged  to  be  remembered  in  their 
prayers,  and  I  parted  from  them  under  the  workings  of 
contrition.  On  arriving  at  Chiozza,  my  dear  parents 
received  me  with  endless  caresses.  I  asked  their  ben- 
ediction, which  they  gave  me  with  tears  ;  and  I  spoke 
of  my  project,  which  they  did  not  disapprove.  My 
father  proposed  to  take  me  with  him  to  Venice  ;  but 
this  I  refused  with  all  the  frankness  of  devotion.  On 
his  telling  me,  however,  that  it  was  to  present  me  to 
the  guardian  of  the  Capuchins,  I  willingly  consented. 
We  went  to  Venice,  where  we  visited  our  relations  and 
friends,  dining  with  some  and  supping  with  others. 
They  deceived  me.  I  was  taken  to  the  play,  and  in 
fifteen  days  there  was  no  longer  any  thought  of  the 
cloister.  My  vapors  were  dissipated,  and  I  was  re- 
stored to  reason.  I  pitied  always  the  man  whom  I  saw 
on  the  scaffold  ;  but  I  discovered  that  it  was  not  neces- 
sary to  renounce  the  world  to  avoid  it.  My  father 
took  me  back  to  Chiozza,  and  my  mother,  who  was 
pious  without  being  bigoted,  was  very  glad  to  see  me 
in  my  usual  state.  I  became  still  more  dear  and  in- 
teresting to  her  on  account  of  the  absence  of  her 
youngest  son. 

My  brother,  who  had  always  been  destined  for  the 
army,  was  sent  to  Zara,  the  capital  of  Dalmatia  ;  he 
was  consigned  to  M.  Visinoni,  a  cousin  of  my  mother, 
and  a  captain  of  dragoons,  and  adjutant  to  the  pro- 
veditor-general  of  that  province,  which  belongs  to  the 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  107 

republic  of  Venice.  This  brave  officer,  whom  all  the 
generals  who  succeeded  to  the  command  of  Zara 
wished  to  have  beside  them,  took  the  charge  of  my 
brother's  education,  and  afterwards  placed  him  in  his 
regiment. 

For  my  part,  I  knew  not  what  was  to  become  of  me. 
At  the  age  of  twenty-one  I  had  experienced  so  many 
reverses,  so  many  singular  catastrophes  had  happened 
to  me,  and  so  many  troublesome  events,  that  I  no 
longer  flattered  myself  with  anything",  '  and  saw  no 
other  resource  in  my  mind  than  the  dramatic  art, 
which  I  was  still  fond  of,  and  which  I  should  long  be- 
fore have  entered  into,  if  I  had  been  master  of  my  own 
will.  My  father,  however,  vexed  to  see  me  the  sport 
of  fortune,  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  cast  down  by 
those  circumstances,  which  began  to  wear  a  serious 
aspect  both  for  him  and  me.  He  had  been  at  a  con- 
siderable and  useless  expense  to  give  me  a  profession, 
and  he  could  have  wished  to  procure  me  a  respectable 
and  lucrative  employment,  which  should  cost  him 
nothing.  This  was  not  so  easily  to  be  found  ;  he  did 
find  one,  however,  and  so  much  to  my  taste  that  I 
forgot  all  the  losses  which  I  had  sustained,  and  I  had 
nothing  further  to  regret. 

The  republic  of  Venice  sends  a  noble  Venetian  for 
governor  to  Chiozza,  with  the  title  of  "podesta,"  who 
takes  with  him  a  chancellor  for  criminal  matters  ;  an 
office  which  corresponds  with  that  of  "lieutenant- 
criminel  n  in  France  ;  and  this  criminal  chancellor 
must  have  an  assistant  in  his  office,  with  the  title  of 
coadjutor.  These  appointments  are  more  or  less  lucra- 
tive, according  to  the  country  in  which  they  are  situ- 
ated ;  but  they  are  all  very  agreeable,  as  the  holders 
of  them  are  admitted  to  the  governor's  table,  are  in 


108  MEMOIKS   OF 

his  excellency's  party,  and  see  every  person  of  distinc- 
tion in  the  place.  However  small  the  labor,  it  turns 
out  pretty  well.  My  father  enjoyed  the  protection  of 
the  governor,  who  was  at  that  time  the  noble  Francis 
Bonfadini.  He  was  also  very  much  connected  with 
the  criminal  chancellor,  and  well  acquainted  with  the 
coadjutor.  In  short,  he  procured  my  appointment  as 
adjunct  to  the  latter. 

The  period  of  the  Venetian  government  is  fixed  ;  the 
governors  are  changed  every  sixteen  months.  "When 
I  entered  my  place,  four  months  had  only  elapsed.  Be- 
sides, I  was  a  supernumerary,  and  could  not  pretend 
to  any  kind  of  emoluments  ;  but  I  enjoyed  all  the 
pleasures  of  society,  a  good  table,  abundance  of  plays, 
concerts,  balls,  and  fêtes.  It  is  a  charming  employ- 
ment ;  but  as  they  are  not  regular  offices,  and  as  the 
governor  can  give  the  commission  to  whomsoever  he 
pleases,  there  are  some  of  their  chancellors  who  lan- 
guish in  inaction,  and  others  who  pass  over  the  rest, 
and  have  no  time  to  repose  themselves.  It  is  personal 
merit  which  brings  them  into  repute  ;  but  most  fre- 
quently protections  carry  the  day.  I  was  aware  of  the 
necessity  of  securing  a  reputation  to  myself;  and  in 
my  quality  of  supernumerary,  I  took  every  means  of 
instructing  myself,  and  making  myself  useful.  The 
coadjutor  was  not  too  fond  of  employment;  I  assisted 
him  as  much  as  possible  ;  and  at  the  end  of  a  few 
months  I  had  become  as  competent  as  himself.  The 
chancellor  was  not  long  in  perceiving  it  ;  and  he  gave 
me  thorny  commissions  without  their  passing  through 
the  channel  of  his  coadjutor,  which  I  was  fortunate 
enough  to  execute  to  his  satisfaction. 

Criminal  procedure  is  a  very  interesting  lesson  for 
the  knowledge  of  human  nature.     The  guilty  indi- 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  109 


diminish  the  horror  of  it  :  he  is  either  artful  by  nature, 
or  becomes  bo  through  fear:  he  knows  that  he  has  to 
do  with  intelligent  persons,  with  professional  people, 
ami  yet  he  does  not  despair  to  deceive  them.  The  law 
has  prescribed  to  criminals  certain  forms  of  interroga- 
te >n  which  must  he  followed,  lest  the  demands  should 
he  captious,  and  lest  weakness  or  ignorance  should  be 
surprised.  However,  it  is  necessary  to  know  a  little, 
or  endeavor  to  conjecture  the  character  and  mind  of  the 
man  about  to  be  examined  ;  and,  observing  a  medium 
between  rigor  and  humanity,  an  endeavor  is  made  to 
discover  the  truth  without  constraining  the  individual. 
What  interested  me  the  most  was  the  review  of  the 
procedure,  and  the  report  which  I  prepared  for  my 
chancellor  ;  for  on  those  reviews  and  reports  the  situ- 
ation, honor,  and  life  of  a  man  frequently  depends. 
The  accused  are  defended,  the  matter  is  discussed; 
but  the  report  produces  the  first  impression.  Woe  to 
those  who  draw  up  reviews  without  knowledge,  and  re- 
ports without  reflection.  Do  not  say,  my  dear  reader, 
that  I  am  puffing  myself  off;  you  see  when  I  commit 
imprudent  actions,  I  do  not  spare  myself;  and  I  must 
be  requited  when  I  am  pleased  with  myself. 

The  sixteen  months'  residence  of  the  podestà  drew 
to  a  close.  Our  criminal-chancellor  was  already  re- 
tained for  Feltre,  and  he  proposed  to  me  the  place  of 
principal  coadjutor,  if  I  would  follow  him.  Charmed 
with  this  proposition,  I  took  a  suitable  time  to  speak 
of  it  to  my  father  ;  and  next  day  an  engagement  was 
concluded  between  us.  Here  I  was  at  length  settled. 
Hitherto  I  had  looked  only  on  employments  at  a  dis- 
tance ;  but  now  I  held  one  which  pleased  and  suited 
me.     I  resolved  with  myself  never  to  quit  it  ;  but  man 


110  MEMOIRS    OF 

proposes,  and  God  disposes.  On  the  departure  of  our 
governor  from  Chiozza,  all  were  eager  to  show  him 
every  sort  of  honor  ;  and  the  wits  of  the  town,  or  those 
who  thought  themselves  such,  had  a  literary  assembly, 
in  which  the  illustrious  person  by  whom  they  had 
been  governed  was  celebrated  both  in  verse  and  prose. 
I  sang  also  all  the  sorts  of  glory  of  the  hero  of  the 
festival,  and  I  expatiated  at  great  length  on  the  virtues 
and  personal  qualities  of  the  governor's  lady  ;  both  of 
them  had  shown  a  kindness  for  me  ;  and  at  Bergamo, 
where  I  saw  them  in  office  some  time  afterwards,  as 
well  as  at  Venice  when  his  excellency  was  decorated 
with  the  rank  of  senator,  they  always  continued  to 
honor  me  with  their  protection. 

Everybody  went  away,  and  I  remained  at  Chiozza 
till  M.  Zabottini  (this  was  the  name  of  the  chancellor) 
called  me  to  Venice  for  the  journey  to  Feltre.  I  had 
always  cultivated  the  acquaintance  of  the  nuns  of  St. 
Francis,  where  there  were  charming  boarders  ;  the  Sig- 

nora  B had  one  under  her  direction  who  was  very 

beautiful,  very  rich,  and  very  amiable  ;  she  would  have 
pleased  me  infinitely,  but  my  age,  my  situation,  and 
my  fortune  forbade  me  to  flatter  myself  with  the  idea  : 
the  nun,  however,  did  not  despair  ;  and  when  I  caDed 
on  her  she  never  failed  to  send  for  the  young  lady  to 
the  parlor.  I  felt  that  I  was  becoming  seriously  at- 
tached :  the  directress  seemed  satisfied  ;  I  did  not  com- 
prehend her  :  I  spoke  to  her  one  day  of  my  inclination 
and  my  fear;  and  she  encouraged  me  and  confided  the 
secret  to  me.  This  lady  possessed  merit  and  prop- 
erty; but  there  was  a  stain  on  her  birth.  "  How- 
ever, this  small  defect  is  nothing,"  said  the  lady  with 
the  veil;  "  the  girl  is  prudent  and  well  educated;  and 
I  answer  for  her  character  and  conduct.     She  has," 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  Ill 

slip  continued,  u  a  guardian,  who  must  be  gained  over  ; 
bat  let  me  alone  for  that.  This  guardian,  who  is 
very  old  and  very  infirm,  has,  it  is  true,  some  pre- 
tensions to  his  ward:  but  he  is  in  the  wrong,  and  — 
as  I  stand  far  something  in  this  business  —  let  me 
alone,  I  say  again  ;  I  shall  arrange  things  for  the 
best."  I  own.  from  this  discourse,  this  confidence,  and 
this  encouragement,  I  began  to  believe  myself  fortu- 
nate. Miss  X did  not  look  upon  me  with  an  un- 
favorable eye,  and  I  reckoned  the  affair  as  good  as 
concluded.  The  whole  convent  perceived  my  inclina- 
tion for  the  boarder,  and  there  were  ladies  acquainted 
with  the  intrigues  of  the  parlor  who  took  pity  on  me, 
and  informed  me  of  what  was  passing.  They  did  it  in 
this  way.  The  windows  of  my  room  were  exactly 
opposite  to  the  steeple  of  the  convent  ;  several  aper- 
tures were  contrived  in  its  construction,  through  which 
the  figures  of  those  who  approached  them  were  con- 
fusedly seen.  I  had  several  times  observed  figures  and 
signs  at  these  apertures,  and  I  learned  in  time  that 
those  signs  marked  the  letters  of  the  alphabet,  that 
words  were  formed  of  them,  and  that  a  conversation 
could  thus  be  carried  on  at  a  distance.  I  had  almost 
every  day  a  quarter  of  an  hour  of  this  mute  conversa- 
tion, which  was  of  a  discreet  and  decorous  nature.  By 
means  of  this  manual  alphabet  I  learned  that  Miss 
N was  on  the  point  of  being  married  to  her  guar- 
dian.    Indignant  at  the  proceedings  of  Lady  B , 

I  called  on  her  after  dinner,  determined  to  display  my 
resentment.  I  demanded  to  see  her  ;  she  came,  and 
on  looking  steadily  at  me,  perceived  that  I  was  cha- 
grined, and  dexterously  took  care  not  to  give  me  time 
to  speak  ;  she  began  the  attack  herself  with  a  sort  of 
vigor  and  a  degree  of  vehemence. 


112  MEMOIRS    OF 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  said  she,  "  you  are  displeased,  I 
see  by  your  countenance."  I  wished  to  speak  then, 
hut  she  would  not  listen  to  me  ;  she  raised  her  voice, 
and  continued  :  '*  Yes.  sir.  Miss  X is  to  he  mar- 
ried, and  her  guardian  is  to  marry  her."  I  wished  to 
speak  loud  in  my  turn.  "  Silence,  silence,"  cried  she, 
"listen  to  me;  this  marriage  is  my  contrivance:  I 
have,  after  mature  consideration,  heen  induced  to  second 
it,  and  it  was  for  you  that  I  solicited  it."  "  For  me  !  " 
said  I.  "  Yes  ;  silence.*'  said  she,  "  and  you  shall  see 
the  design  of  an  honest  woman,  who  is  attached  to 
yon.  Are  you,"  continued  she,  "in  a  situation  to 
marry  ?  No,  for  a  hundred  reasons.  Would  the  lady 
have  waited  your  convenience  ?  No,  for  it  was  not  in 
her  power  ;  she  must  have  married  :  a  young  man 
would  have  married  her,  and  you  would  have  lost  her 
forever.  Now  she  is  to  he  married  to  an  old  man,  to 
a  valetudinary,  who  cannot  live  long  :  you  will  receive  a 
pretty  widow  who  will  he  richer  than  she  is  at  present  ; 
and  in  the  mean  time  you  can  go  on  in  your  own  way. 
Yes,  yes,  she  is  yours  ;  I  pledge  myself  for  that  ;  I 
give  you  my  word  of  honor." 

Miss  N now  made  her  appearance  and  ap- 
proached the  grate.  The  directress  said  to  me,  with  a 
mysterious  air,  "Compliment  Miss  on  her  marriage." 
I  could  hold  out  no  longer.  I  made  my  how,  and  went 
away  without  saying  a  word.  I  never  saw  either  the 
directress  or  the  hoarder  again;  and  happily  I  soon 
forgot  both  of  them. 

As  soon  as  I  received  the  letter  directing  me  to  re- 
pair to  Feltre,  I  set  out  from  Chiozza.  accompanied  by 
my  father,  and  went  to  Venice  to  be  introduced  along 
with  him  to  his  excellency.  Paolo  Spinelli,  a  nohle 
Venetian,  the  podestà  or  governor,  whom  I  was  to 


CARLO   GOLDONL  113 

follow.  We  also  called  on  Chancellor  Zabottini,  under 
whose  orders  I  was  to  labor.  I  left  Venice  a  few  days 
afterwards,  and  in  forty-eight  hours  I  reached  the  place 
of  my  residence.  Feltre  or  Feltri  is  a  town  situated  in 
the  Marcia  Trevigiana,  a  province  of  the  republic  of 
Venice,  sixty  leagues  from  the  capital.  It  contains  a 
bishopric  and  a  numerous  nobility.  The  town  is  moun- 
tainous and  steep,  and  so  completely  covered  with 
snow  during  the  whole  winter,  that  from  the  doors  in 
the  narrow  streets  being  choked  up  with  snow  and  ice, 
they  are  obliged  to  make  their  way  out  at  the  windows. 
The  followiug  Latin  verse  is  ascribed  to  Caesar:  — 

"  Feltria  perpetuo  niviuin  damnata  rigori." 

Having  arrived  there  before  my  colleagues,  for  the 
purpose  of  receiving  from  my  predecessor  the  archives 
and  other  papers,  I  was  very  agreeably  surprised  to 
learn  that  there  was  a  company  of  comedians  in  the 
town,  who  had  been  invited  by  the  old  governor,  and 
who  intended  giving  a  few  representations  on  the  ar- 
rival of  the  new.  This  company  was  under  the  direc- 
tion of  Charles  Veronese,  the  same  who,  thirty  years 
afterwards,  came  to  Paris  to  play  the  character  of 
pantaloon  at  the  Italian  theatre,  and  who  brought 
the  beautiful  Coralina  and  the  charming  Camilla,  his 
daughters,  along  with  him.  This  company  was  not 
amiss;  the  director,  notwithstanding  his  glass  eye. 
played  the  principal  inamorato:  and  I  saw  with  pleas- 
ure the  same  Florindo  dei  Macaroni  whom  I  knew  at 
Rimini,  and  who,  on  account  of  his  age.  only  acted  the 
characters  of  kings  in  tragedy  and  noble  fathers  in 
comedy. 

Four  days  afterwards  the  governor  arrived,  and  the 
chancellor  and  another  officer  of  justice  with  the  title 


114:  MEMOIRS    OF 

of  vicar,  who  here  and  in  several  other  provinces  of  the 
state  of  Venice,  has  a  voice  along  with  the  podestà  in 
sentences  and  judgments.  I  laid  aside  for  several 
months  every  idea  of  pleasure  and  amusement,  and 
applied  seriously  to  labor,  as,  after  this  second  govern- 
ment in  which  I  acted  as  coadjutor,  I  could  aspire  to  a 
chancellorship.  I  examined  into  the  papers  in  the 
chancery,  among  which  1  found  a  commission  from  the 
senate  that  my  predecessors  had  neglected.  I  gave  an 
account  of  it  to  my  principal,  who  judged  the  affair  of 
an  interesting  nature,  and  charged  me  to  follow  it 
through  with  all  my  abilities.  This  was  a  criminal 
procedure  on  account  of  timber  cut  down  in  the  forests 
of  the  republic;  and  there  were  two  hundred  persons 
implicated  in  the  crime.  This  required  an  exam- 
ination on  the  spot,  to  ascertain  the  corpus  delicti.  I 
went  myself  with  surveyors  and  guards  across  rocks, 
torrents,  and  precipices.  The  procedure  occasioned  a 
great  noise,  and  threw  every  one  into  consternation; 
for  the  wood  had  been  cut  down  with  impunity  for 
more  than  twenty  years,  and  there  was  reason  to  ap- 
prehend a  revolt,  which  might  have  fallen  on  the  poor 
devil  of  a  coadjutor  who  roused  the  sleeping  lion.  For- 
tunately, this  great  affair  terminated  something  in  the 
same  way  as  the  parturition  of  the  mountain.  The 
republic  was  satisfied  with  securing  its  wood  for  the 
future.  The  chancellor  lost  nothing,  and  the  coadjutor 
was  indemnified  for  his  fears. 

I  was  intrusted  some  time  afterwards  with  another 
commission  of  a  much  more  agreeable  and  amusing 
nature.  This  was  to  carry  through  an  investigation 
ten  leagues  from  the  town,  into  the  circumstances  of  a 
dispute  where  fire-arms  had  been  made  use  of,  and 
dangerous  wounds   received.     As   the   couutry  where 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  115 

this  happened  was  flat,  and  the  road  lay  through 
charming  estates  and  country-houses,  I  engaged  several 
of  my  friends  to  follow  me  ;  we  were  in  all  twelve, 
six  males  and  six  females,  and  four  domestics.  We  all 
rode  on  horseback,  and  we  employed  twelve  days  in 
this  delicious  expedition.  During  all  this  time  we 
never  dined  and  supped  in  the  same  place  ;  and  for 
twelve  nights  we  never  slept  on  beds.  We  went  very 
frequently  on  foot  along  delightful  roads  bordered  with 
vines,  aud  shaded  with  fig-trees,  breakfasting  on  milk, 
and  sometimes  sharing  the  ordinary  fare  of  the  peas- 
ants, which  is  a  soup  composed  of  Turkey  corn  called 
polenta,  and  of  which  we  made  most  delicious  toasts. 
Wherever  we  went,  we  saw  nothing  but  fetes,  rejoic- 
ings, and  entertainments  ;  and  at  every  place  where 
we  stopped  in  the  evenins:  we  had  balls  the  whole  night 
through,  in  which  the  ladies  played  their  part  as  well 
as  the  men.  In  this  party  there  were  two  sisters,  one 
married  and  the  other  single.  The  latter  was  very 
much  to  my  liking,  and  I  may  say  I  made  the  party 
for  her  alone.  She  was  as  prudent  and  modest  as  her 
sister  was  headstrong  and  foolish  ;  the  singularity  of 
our  journey  afforded  us  an  opportunity  of  coming  to  an 
explanation,  and  we  became  lovers. 

My  investigation  was  concluded  in  two  hours  ;  we 
selected  another  road  for  our  return,  to  vary  our  pleas- 
ure ;  but  on  our  arrival  at  Feltre,  we  were  all  worn 
out,  exhausted,  and  more  dead  than  alive.  I  felt  the 
effects  for  a  month,  and  my  poor  Angelica  had  a  fever 
of  forty  days.  The  six  gentlemen  of  our  party  pro- 
posed another  species  of  entertainment  to  me.  In  the 
palace  of  the  governor  there  was  a  theatre,  which  they 
wished  to  put  to  some  use  ;  and  they  did  me  the  honor 
to  tell  me  that  they  had  conceived  the  project  on  my 


116  MEMOIRS    OF 

account,  and  they  left  me  the  power  of  choosing  the. 
pieces  and  distributing  the  characters.  I  thanked 
them,  and  accepted  the  proposition,  and  with  the  ap- 
probation of  his  excellency  and  my  chancellor,  I  put 
myself  at  the  head  of  this  new  entertainment.  I  could 
have  wished  something  comic,  but  I  was  not  fond 
of  buffoonery,  and  there  were  no  good  comedies  ; 
I  therefore  gave  the  preference  to  tragedy.  As  the 
operas  of  Metastasio  were  then  represented  every- 
where even  without  music,  I  put  the  airs  into  recita- 
tive; I  endeavored  as  well  as  I  could  to  approximate 
the  style  of  that  charming  author  ;  and  I  made  choice 
of  Didone  and  Siroe  for  our  representation.  I  distrib- 
uted the  parts,  according  to  the  characters  of  my . 
actors,  whom  I  knew,  and  I  reserved  the  worst  for 
myself.  In  this  I  acted  wisely,  for  I  was  completely 
unsuited  for  tragedy.  Fortunately,  I  had  composed 
two  small  pieces  in  which  I  played  two  parts  of  char- 
acter, and  redeemed  my  reputation.  The  first  of  these 
pieces  was  the  Good  Father,  and  the  second  La  Canta- 
trice. Both  were  approved  of,  and  my  acting  was 
considered  passable  for  an  amateur.  I  saw  the  last  of 
these  pieces  some  time  afterwards  at  Venice,  where  a 
young  advocate  thought  proper  to  give  it  out  as  his 
own  work,  and  to  receive  compliments  on  the  subject  ; 
but,  having  been  imprudent  enough  to  publish  it  with 
his  name,  he  experienced  the  mortification  of  seeing 
his  plagiarism  unmasked. 

I  did  what  I  could  to  engage  my  beautiful  Angelica 
to  accept  a  part  in  our  tragedies,  but  it  was  impossible; 
she  was  timid,  and  had  she  even  been  willing,  her 
parents  would  not  have  given  their  permission.  She 
visited  us  ;  but  this  pleasure  cost  her  tears  ;  for  she 
was  jealous  and  suffered  much  from  seeing  me  on  such 


CARLO    GOLDOXT.  117 

a  familiar  footing  with  my  fair  companions.  The  poor 
little  girl  loved  me  with  tenderness  and  sincerity,  and 
I  loved  her  also  with  my  whole  soul  ;  I  may  say  she 
was  the  first  person  whom  I  ever  loved.  She  aspired 
to  become  my  wife,  which  she  would  have  been  if 
certain  singular  reflections,  that,  however,  were  well 
founded,  had  not  turned  me  from  the  design.  Her 
elder  sister  had  been  remarkably  beautiful  ;  and,  after 
her  first  child,  she  became  ugly.  The  -youngest  had 
the  same  skin  and  the  same  features  :  she  was  one  of 
those  delicate  beauties  whom  the  air  injures,  and  whom 
the  smallest  fatigue  or  pain  discomposes  ;  of  all  which 
I  saw  a  convincing  proof.  The  fatigue  of  our  journey 
produced  a  visible  change  upon  her  :  I  was  young,  and 
if  my  wife  were  in  a  short  time  to  have  lost  her  bloom, 
I  foresaw  what  would  have  been  my  despair.  This 
was  reasoning  curiously  for  a  lover  ;  but  whether  from 
virtue,  weakness,  or  inconstancy,  I  quitted  Feltre  with- 
out marrying  her. 


VIII. 

I  had  some  difficulty  in  tearing  myself  from  the 
charming  object  with  whom  I  first  tasted  the  charms 
of  virtuous  love.  It  must  be  owned,  however,  that 
this  love  was  not  of  a  very  vigorous  description,  as  I 
could  quit  my  mistress.  A  little  more  mind  and  grace 
would  perhaps  have  fixed  me  ;  but  she  possessed  beauty 
alone  ;  and  even  that  beauty  seemed  to  me  on  its  de- 
cline. I  had  time  for  reflection,  and  my  self-love  was 
stronger  than  my  passion. 

I  required  something  to  divert  my  thoughts  from  the 
subject,  and  several  circumstances  occurred  calculated 
to  produce  this   effect.     My  father,  who  could  never 


118  MEMOIRS    OF 

settle  in  one  place  (a  propensity  which  he  left  as  an 
inheritance  to  his  son)  had  changed  his  country.  In 
returning  from  Modena,  whither  he  weut  on  family 
affairs,  he  passed  through  Ferrara,  and  there  he  re- 
ceived a  very  advantageous  offer  of  being  settled  as  a 
physician  at  Bagnacavallo,  with  a  fixed  income.  This 
was  a  favorable  proposition,  and  he  accepted  it  ;  and 
it  was  arranged  that  I  should  join  him  there  the  very 
first  opportunity  my  situation  would  admit  of. 

On  leaving  Feltre,  I  passed  through  Venice  without 
stopping,  and  embarked  with  the  courier  of  Ferrara. 
In  the  bark  there  were  numbers  of  people,  but  they 
were  ill  assorted.  Among  others,  there  was  a  meagre 
and  pale  young  man  with  black  hair,  a  broken  voice, 
and  a  sinister  physiognomy,  the  son  of  a  butcher  of 
Padua,  who  set  up  for  a  great  man.  This  gentleman 
grew  weary,  and  invited  everybody  to  play;  nobody, 
however,  would  listen  to  him,  and  I  had  the  honor  of 
taking  him  up.  He  proposed  at  first  faro  on  a  small 
scale,  tête-à-tête,  but  this  the  courier  would  not  have 
permitted.  We  played  at  a  child's  game,  called  "  cala- 
carte,"  in  which  he  who  has  the  greatest  number  of 
cards  at  the  end  of  the  game  gains  a  fish,  and  he  who 
has  the  greatest  number  of  spades  gains  another.  I 
lost  my  cards  always,  and  never  had  any  spades  :  at 
thirty  sous  the  fish,  he  contrived  to  obtain  from  me 
two  sequins  ;  I  suspected  him,  but  I  paid  my  money 
without  saying  anything. 

On  arriving  at  Ferrara  I  had  need  of  repose,  and  I 
went  to  lodge  at  the  hotel  of  St.  Mark,  where  the  post- 
horses  were  kept.  While  I  was  dining  alone  in  my 
room,  I  received  a  visit  from  my  gambler,  who  came 
to  offer  me  my  revenge.  On  my  refusing,  he  laughed 
at  me,  and,  drawing  from  his  pocket  a  pack  of  cards 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  119 

and  a  handful  of  sequins,  he  proposed  faro  to  me, 
which  I  still,  however,  refused.  "  Come,  come,  sir," 
said  he  ;  "I  owe  you  your  revenge.  I  am  an  honest 
man,  willing  to  give  it  you  ;  and  you  cannot  refuse  me. 
You  don't  know  me,"  he  continued.  "To  set  your 
mind  at  ease  with  respect  to  me,  there  are  the  cards  ; 
hold  you  the  bank  and  I  shall  punt."  The  proposition 
seemed  to  me  fair  ;  I  was  not  yet  cunning  enough  to 
suspect  the  tricks  of  this  sleight-of-hand  gentry  ;  I  be- 
lieved in  good  earnest  that  chance  would  decide  the 
business,  and  that  I  had  an  opportunity  of  recovering 
my  money. 

I  drew  ten  sequins  from  my  purse,  as  an  equivalent 
for  those  of  my  antagonist,  and  I  mixed  the  cards  and 
gave  him  them  to  cut.  He  laid  two  punts,  which  I 
gained,  and  on  which  I  was  as  frisky  as  a  harlequin. 
I  shuffled  again,  and  gave  the  cards  to  him  to  cut  :  my 
gentleman  doubled  his  stake  and  gained  ;  he  made 
paroli  :  this  paroli  decided  the  bank,  and  I  could  not 
refuse  to  hold  it.  I  held  it  accordingly,  and  I  gained. 
On  this  he  swore  like  a  trooper,  took  up  the  cards, 
which  had  fallen  on  the  table,  counted  them,  found  an 
odd  card,  and  maintained  there  was  a  false  deal.  He 
attempted  to  seize  my  money,  which  I  defended.  He 
then  drew  a  pistol  from  his  pocket  ;  and  I  started 
back  and  let  go  my  sequins.  On  hearing  my  plaintive 
and  trembling  voice,  a  waiter  of  the  hotel,  leagued 
in  all  probability  with  the  cheat,  made  his  appear- 
ance, and  announced  to  us  that  we  had  both  incurred 
the  most  rigorous  penalties  denounced  against  games 
of  hazard,  and  threatened  to  inform  against  us  in- 
stantly if  we  refused  to  give  him  some  money.  I 
was  not  long  in  giving  him  a  sequin  for  myself, 
and  I  took   post    instantly,   enraged    at   having   lost 


120  MEMOIRS   OF 

my  money,  and  still  more  at  having  allowed  myself  to 
be  swindled. 

On  arriving  at  Bagnacavallo,  I  was  consoled  with 
the  sight  of  my  dear  parents.  My  father  had  had  an 
attack  of  a  mortal  disease,  and  his  only  regret  was,  as 
he  said,  lest  he  should  die  without  seeing  me.  Alas  ! 
he  saw  me,  and  I  saw  him  ;  but  this  reciprocal  pleasure 
lasted  but  a  very  short  time. 

Bagnacavallo  is  merely  a  large  village,  in  the  lega- 
tion of  Ravenna,  very  rich,  very  fertile,  and  very  com- 
mercial. After  iutroduciug  me  into  the  best  society  of 
this  place,  my  father,  as  an  additional  gratification  for 
me,  took  me  to  Faenza.  In  this  town  was  first  dis- 
covered the  sort  of  argillous  matter  mixed  with  potter's- 
earth  and  sand,  of  which  the  glazed  earth  is  composed 
which  the  Italians  call  majolica,  the  French  faience 
and  the  English  delft  ware.  In  Italy  a  number  of  delft 
plates  were  painted  by  Rafaelle  d'Urbino,  or  by  his 
pupils.  These  plates  are  framed  in  an  elegant  style, 
and  preserved  with  great  care  in  picture  cabinets.  I 
saw  a  very  abundant  and  very  rich  collection  of  them 
at  Venice,  in  the  Grimani  Palace  at  Santa  Maria  For- 
mosa. Faenza  is  a  very  pretty  town  of  Romagna,  but 
there  is  nothing  remarkable  to  be  seen  in  it.  We  were 
very  well  received  and  treated  by  the  Marquis  Spada  : 
we  saw  several  comedies  performed  by  a  strolling  com- 
pany, and  in  six  days  we  returned  to  Bagnacavallo. 

A  few  days  afterwards,  my  father  fell  sick.  It  was 
a  year  since  he  had  been  seized  with  his  last  disease  : 
he  perceived,  on  taking  to  bed,  that  the  relapse  Mas 
serious,  and  his  pulse  announced  his  danger  to  him. 
His  fever  became  malignant  on  the  seventh  day,  and 
grew  worse  and  worse  every  hour.  When  he  saw 
himself  near  his  latter  end,  he  called  me  to  his  bedside, 


CARLO   GOLDOM.  121 

and,  recommending  his  dear  wife  to  my  protection,  bade 
mc  adieu,  and  gave  me  his  blessing.  He  sent  im- 
mediately for  his  confessor,  and  received  the  sacrament. 
On  the  fourteenth  day  my  father  was  no  more.  He 
was  buried  in  the  church  of  St.  Jerome  of  Bagnacavallo, 
the  9th  March,  1731. 

I  will  not  dwell  here  on  the  firmness  of  a  virtuous 
father,  the  grief  of  a  tender  wife,  and  the  sensibility  of 
a  beloved  and  grateful  son,  but  shall  merely  give  you  a 
rapid  sketch  of  the  most  cruel  moments  of  my  life. 
The  loss  was  keenly  felt  by  me,  and  it  occasioned  an 
essential  change  in  my  situation  and  family.  I  endeav- 
ored to  console  my  mother,  and  she  in  turn  endeavored 
t<>  comfort  me  :  we  required  the  assistance  of  each  other. 
Oar  first  care  was  to  leave  the  place  and  return  to  my 
maternal  aunt  at  Venice,  and  we  lodged  with  her  in 
the  house  of  one  of  our  relations,  where  fortunately 
there  were  apartments  to  let.  During  the  whole  jour- 
ney from  Romagna  to  Venice  my  mother  did  nothing 
but  speak  of  my  chancery-employment  on  the  main- 
land, which  she  called  a  gipsy  occupation,  for  it  was 
necessary  to  be  on  the  spot,  and  to  be  perpetually 
changing  from  country  to  country.  She  wished  to  live 
along  with  me,  to  see  me  occupied  sedentarily  beside 
her,  and  she  conjured  and  solicited  me  with  tears  in  her 
eyes  to  embrace  the  profession  of  an  advocate.  On  my 
arrival  at  Venice,  all  our  friends  joined  my  mother  in 
the  same  wish  ;  I  resisted  as  long  as  I  could,  but  was 
at  last  obliged  to  yield.  Did  I  act  wisely  i  Will  my 
mother  long  enjoy  her  son?  She  had  every  reason  to 
think  so  ;  but  my  stars  perpetually  thwarted  every  one 
of  my  projects.  Thalia  expected  me  in  her  temple, 
she  led  me  to  it  through  many  a  crooked  path,  and 
made  me  endure  the  thorns  and  the  briers  before  yield- 
ing me  any  of  the  flowers. 


122  MEMOIRS    OF 

As  I  was  on  the  point  of  appearing  in  my  gown  in 
the  courts  of  law,  where  a  few  years  before  I  appeared 
without  one,  I  called  on  my  Unele  Indrie.  with  whom 
I  acquired  my  knowledge  of  law-practice.  He  was 
glad  to  see  me  again,  and  assured  me  of  his  endeavors 
in  my  behalf.  I  had  great  difficulties,  however,  to  sur- 
mount. To  be  received  advocate  at  Venice,  the  first 
step  is  to  be  licensed  by  the  University  of  Padua  ;  and 
to  obtain  the  license,  a  course  of  civil  law  in  that  town 
must  be  gone  through,  five  consecutive  years  must  be 
passed  there,  and  the  certificates  of  attendance  at  all 
the  different  classes  of  the  public  schools  must  be  pro- 
duced. Strangers  alone  can  present  themselves  in  the 
college,  defend  their  theses,  and  receive  their  license  on 
the  spot  without  delay.  I  belonged  by  descent  to  Mo- 
dena:  but  as  both  my  father  and  myself  were  born  in 
Venice,  was  I  entitled  to  the  advantage  of  strangers  ? 
I  know  not,  but  a  letter  written  by  order  of  the  Duke 
<>f  Modena  to  his  minister  at  Venice,  procured  me  a 
place  in  the  privileged  class.  I  was  thus  enabled  to 
repair  instantly  to  Padua  and  receive  my  degree  of  doc- 
tor ;  but  a  new  and  still  more  serious  difficulty  now 
occurred.  The  Venetian  code  is  alone  followed  at  the 
bar  of  Venice;  and  Bartolus,  Baldus,  and  Justinian  are 
never  cited.  They  are  scarcely  known  there  ;  but  they 
must  be  known  at  Padua.  It  is  the  same  at  Venice  as 
at  Paris,  —  young  men  lose  their  time  in  a  useless  study. 
I  had  lost  my  time  like  other  people  ;  I  had  studied  the 
Komau  law  at  Pa  via,  Udine.  and  Modena  ;  but  then 
for  four  years  this  study  had  been  interrupted,  and 
every  trace  of  the  Imperial  law  was  lost.  I  saw  my- 
self, therefore,  under  the  necessity  of  becoming  once 
more  a  scholar. 

I  applied  to  one  of  my  old  friends,  M.  Kadi,  whom  I 


CARLO  GOLDONL  123 

knew  in  my  infancy,  and  who,  having  employed  his  time 
much  better  than  myself,  was  become  a  good  advocate, 
and  an  excellent  master  for  the  instruction  of  the  candi- 
dates who  frequent  Padua  only  four  times  a  year,  to 
show  themselves  and  obtain  their  certificates  of  attend- 
ance. M.  Radi  was  a  w<  >rthy  man,  but,  from  being  fond 
of  play,  he  was  rather  embarrassed  in  his  circumstances. 
His  scholars  profited  by  his  lessons,  and  frequently  car- 
ried his  money  as  well  as  his  instructions  away  with 
them.  When  M.  Radi  thought  me  sufficiently  prepared 
f  >r  a  public  exhibition,  we  set  out  together  for  Padua. 
I  own  that,  notwithstanding  the  instruction  I  had  re- 
ceived and  a  certain  confidence  acquired  in  my  inter- 
course with  the  world,  I  entertained  a  considerable 
dread  of  the  grave  and  solemn  countenances  by  whom 
I  was  to  be  judged.  My  friend  laughed  at  my  appre- 
hensions, and  told  me  I  had  nothing  to  fear,  and  all 
that  I  had  to  pass  through  was  nothing  but  ceremony, 
and  that  a  person  must  be  very  ignorant  indeed  who 
failed  to  be  crowned  with  the  laurels  of  the  university. 
On  arriving  at  the  city  of  doctors,  we  waited  first  on 
M.  Pi-rhi.  the  civil-law  professor,  to  request  him  to  have 
the  goodness  to  be  my  promoter,  that  is,  the  person  who 
in  quality  of  assistant  presents  and  supports  the  candi- 
dates. He  acceded  to  my  request,  and  received  with 
every  expression  of  kindness  a  silver  tea-board  of 
which  I  made  him  a  present.  We  next  went  to  the 
office  of  the  university,  to  deposit  in  the  hands  of  the 
treasurer  the  sum  which  the  professors  divide  among 
themselves.  This  advance  is  called  a  deposit  ;  but  it 
is  there  as  at  the  theatre,  the  money  is  never  returned 
after  the  drawing  of  the  curtain.  We  had  visits  to  pay 
to  all  the  doctors  of  the  college,  and  many  of  them  we 
accomplished  with  cards;  but  on  calling  on  the  Abbé 


124  MEMOIRS   OF 

Arrighi,  one  of  the  first  professors  in  the  university,  the 
porter  had  orders  to  receive  us.  We  found  him  in  his 
closet,  and  paid  him  the  usual  compliments  of  request- 
ing him  to  honor  us  with  his  presence,  and  to  grant  us 
his  indulgence.  He  seemed  very  much  astonished  that 
we  should  confine  ourselves  to  this  dry  and  useless  com- 
pliment. We  could  not  comprehend  the  cause  of  this; 
hut  we  afterwards  ohtained  the  following  information. 

A  new  regulation  had  been  enacted  and  published,  by 
order  of  the  reformers  of  the  course  of  studies  at  Padua, 
by  which  all  candidates  for  a  doctor's  degree,  before 
appearing  in  full  college,  were  to  undergo  a  particular 
examination  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  whether 
they  were  sufficiently  instructed  for  a  public  examina- 
tion. It  was  M.  Arrighi  himself  who,  seeing  that  this 
public  examination  of  candidates  was  treated  as  a  mere 
farce,  that  the  indolence  of  youth  was  too  much  encour- 
aged, that  questions  were  selected  at  pleasure,  that  even 
the  arguments  were  communicated  and  the  answers  fur- 
nished, and  that  they  made  only  doctors  without  doc- 
trine, thought  proper  in  the  excess  of  his  zeal  to  solicit 
and  obtain  this  famous  regulation  which  would  have 
destroyed  the  University  of  Padua  had  it  been  long  en- 
forced. I  had  therefore  to  go  through  this  examination, 
and  the  Abbe  Arrighi  was  to  be  my  examiner.  He 
requested  M.  Radi  to  retire  into  his  library,  and  he  be- 
gan immediately  to  interrogate  me.  He  was  by  no 
means  disposed  to  spare  me,  but  wandered  from  the 
code  of  Justinian  to  the  canons  of  the  church,  and  from 
the  digests  to  the  pandects.  I  always,  however,  gave 
an  answer  of  one  kind  or  another,  though  perhaps  I 
was  more  often  wrong  than  right;  but  I  displayed  a 
tolerable  degree  of  knowledge  and  a  great  deal  of  con- 
fidence.    My  examiner,  who  was  very  strict  and  sera- 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  125 

pulous,  was  by  no  means  fully  satisfied  with  me,  and 
wished  me  to  prolong  my  studies  ;  but  I  told  him  frankly 
that  I  came  to  Padua  to  obtain  my  degree  ;  that  my 
reputation  would  be  injured  were  I  to  return  without 
one  ;  and  that  I  had  made  my  deposit.  "  What  !  "  said 
he,  "  you  have  deposited  your  money  fw  "Yes,  sir." 
"And  it  was  received  without  my  orders?"  "The 
treasurer  received  it  without  hesitation  ;  and  here  is  his 
receipt."  "  So  much  the  worse  ;  you  ruif  a  risk  of  los- 
ing it.  Have  you  the  courage  to  venture  yourself  !  " 
"  Yes,  sir,  I  am  determined  at  all  hazards.  I  would 
rather  renounce  forever  my  views  of  becoming  an  ad- 
vocate, than  return  a  second  time."  "  You  are  very 
bold."  "Sir,  I  possess  honorable  feelings."  "Very 
well,  fix  your  day.  I  shall  be  there;  but  take  care;  the 
most  trifling  fault  will  defeat  your  object."  On  this  I 
made  my  bow  and  took  my  leave.  Eadi  had  heard 
everything,  and  was  in  greater  apprehension  than  my- 
self. I  knew  that  my  answers  had  not  been  very  accu- 
rate ;  but  in  the  college  of  doctors  the  questions  are 
limited,  and  the  candidate  is  not  made  to  wander  through 
the  immense  chaos  of  jurisprudence  from  one  end  to  the 
other. 

Next  day  we  repaired  to  the  university  to  see  the 
points  which  fate  should  allot  me  drawn  from  the  urn. 
The  civil  law  point  turned  on  intestate  successions, 
and  that  of  the  canon  law  on  bigamy.  I  was  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  titles  of  the  one  and  the  chapters  of 
the  other  ;  I  went  over  them  the  same  day  in  the 
library  of  Doctor  Pighi,  my  promoter  ;  and  I  applied 
myself  seriously  till  the  hour  of  supper.  My  friend 
and  myself  sat  down  to  table,  when  five  young  per- 
sons entered  the  room  and  wished  to  sup  with  us. 
This  we  willingly  agreed  to,  and,  after  supper,   we 


126  MEMOIRS    OF 

began  to  laugh  and  amuse  ourselves.  One  of  the  five 
scholars  was  a  candidate  who  had  "been  refused  in  the 
examination  by  Professor  Arrighi:  and  he  poured  forth 
execrations  against  that  abbé,  who  was  a  Corsican  by 
birth,  and  satirized  his  barbarity  and  the  barbarity  of 
his  country.  I  wished  these  gentlemen  good  night; 
for,  as  my  examination  was  to  take  place  next  day,  I 
required  sleep  ;  but  they  laughed  at  me,  and  drew 
from  their  pockets  a  pack  of  cards,  and  one  of  them 
produced  his  sequins  on  the  table.  Radi  was  the  first 
to  give  in  to  the  proposition  :  and  the  whole  night 
through  we  played,  and  Radi  and  myself  lost  our 
money.  We  were  interrupted  by  the  beadle  of  the 
college,  who  brought  me  the  gown  which  I  was  to 
appear  in.  The  clock  of  the  university  summoned  me 
to  the  examination,  which  I  had  to  encounter  without 
having  closed  my  eyes,  and  smarting  under  chagrin  at 
the  loss  of  my  time  and  money. 

However,  the  exigency  required  exertion.  On  my 
arrival  I  was  met  by  my  promoter,  who  took  me  by 
the  hand  and  seated  me  beside  himself  on  a  balus- 
trade, with  a  numerous  assembly  in  a  semicircle  in 
front  of  us.  When  every  person  was  seated,  I  rose 
and  began  by  reciting  the  usual  ceremony  and  propos- 
ing the  two  theses  which  I  had  to  defend.  One  of 
those  deputed  to  carry  on  the  argumentation  attacked 
me  with  a  syllogism  in  barhara  with  citations  of  texts 
in  the  major  and  minor.  I  resumed  the  argument, 
and  in  the  citation  of  a  paragraph  I  confounded  No.  5 
with  No.  7:  my  promoter  whispered  my  mistake  to 
me,  which  I  wished  to  correct.  On  this  M.  Arrighi 
rose  from  his  seat  and  said  aloud  to  If.  Pighi,  "  I  pro- 
test, sir,  that  I  will  not  suffer  the  smallest  infraction 
of  the  laws  of  the  regulation.     All  assistance  to  candi- 


CARLO    GOLDONI.  127 

dates  is  prohibited  at  a  time  like  this.  It  may  pass 
f  r  this  time  ;  but  I  give  you  warning  for  the  fu- 
ture." 

I  perceived  that  this  misplaced  sally  excited  uni- 
versal indignation,  and  I  seized  the  favorable  instant 
t  ■>  resume  the  substance  of  my  thesis  and  the  proposi- 
tions of  the  argument.  In  place  of  the  scholastic 
method  I  substituted  learning,  reasonings,  and  the 
discussions  of  compilers  and  interpreters.  I  gave  a 
dissertation  on  the  whole  extent  of  intestate  succes- 
sions, which  met  with  universal  applause;  and  seeing 
the  success  of  my  boldness,  I  made  an  instantaneous 
transition  from  the  civil  to  the  canon  law,  and  under- 
took the  article  of  bigamy,  which  I  treated  like  the 
other.  I  went  through  the  laws  of  the  Greeks  and 
Romans,  and  cited  councils.  I  was  fortunate  in  the 
questions  which  fell  to  my  lot;  for  I  knew  them  by 
heart;  and  on  this  occasion  I  acquired  an  immortal 
honor.  The  votes  were  now  taken,  and  the  registrar 
published  the  result.  I  was  made  a  licentiate  "  ne- 
mine  penitùs  penitùsque  discrepante"  ;  that  is  to  say, 
without  one  dissentient  voice,  not  even  that  of  M. 
Arrighi,  who,  on  the  contrary,  was  very  well  satisfied. 
My  promoter  then  put  the  doctor's  cap  on  my  head 
and  proceeded  to  pass  an  eulogium  on  the  licentiate  ; 
but  as  I  did  not  follow  the  usual  routine,  he  composed 
Latin  prose  and  verse  adapted  to  the  occasion,  which 
was  highly  honorable  both  to  himself  and  me.  Every 
one  may  enter  on  the  reception  of  the  candidate,  and 
on  this  occasion  I  was  quite  overpowered  by  the  com- 
pliments and  salutations  which  I  received.  Radi  and 
myself  returned  to  our  hotel,  very  well  pleased  with 
the  termination  of  this  affair,  and  very  much  embar- 
rassed to  find  ourselves  without  money.     This,  how- 


128  MEMOIRS   OF 

ever,  was  a  sine  qua  non,  and  we  obtained  some  with- 
out much  difficulty,  aud  took  our  departure  exultingly 
and  triumphantly  for  Venice. 

On  arriving  at  Venice,  after  embracing  my  mother 
and  aunt,  whose  joy  was  excessive,  I  paid  a  visit  to 
my  uncle  the  attorney  ;  whom  I  solicited  to  obtain  a 
place  for  me  with  an  advocate  for  instruction  in  the 
forms  and  practice  of  the  bar.  My  uncle,  who  was 
enabled  to  make  a  choice,  recommended  me  to  M. 
Terzi,  one  of  the  best  pleaders  and  chamber-counsel  in 
the  republic,  with  whom  I  was  to  remain  two  years  ; 
but  I  entered  in  the  month  of  October,  1731,  and  left 
him  in  May,  1732;  when  I  was  received  as  an  advo- 
cate. In  all  probability  they  looked  merely  to  the 
date  of  the  year  and  not  to  that  of  the  months. 
There  was  always  something  extraordinary  in  all  my 
arrangements,  and,  to  say  the  truth,  almost  always  to 
my  advantage.  I  was  born  lucky,  and  whenever  I 
have  not  been  so  the  fault  has  been  entirely  my  own. 

The  advocates  at  Venice  must  have  their  lodgings 
and  be  at  their  chambers  in  the  quarter  della  Roba. 
I  took  apartments  at  San  Paternian,  and  my  mother 
and  aunt  did  not  quit  me.  I  equipped  myself  in  my 
professional  gown,  the  same  as  that  of  the  patricians, 
enveloped  my  head  in  an  immense  wig,  and  waited 
with  great  impatience  for  the  day  of  my  presentation 
in  court.  This  presentation  does  not  take  place  with- 
out ceremony.  The  novice  must  have  two  assistants, 
called  at  Venice  Compari  di  Palazzo,  whom  the  young 
man  selects  from  among  those  old  advocates  who  are 
the  most  attached  to  him.  I  chose  M.  Uccelli  and  M. 
Roberti,  both  my  neighbors.  I  went  between  my  two 
friends  to  the  bottom  of  the  great  staircase  in  the 
great  hall  of  the  courts,  and  for  half  an  hour  I  was 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  129 

obliged  to  make  so  many  bows  and  contortions  that 
my  back  was  almost  broken,  and  my  wig  resembled 
the  mane  of  a  lion.  Every  one  who  passed  me  had 
something  to  say  respecting  me  ;  some  observed  that  I 
mus  a  lad  with  s<ane  expression  in  my  countenance; 
others,  that  I  was  a  new  sweeper  of  the  courts  ;  some 
embraced  me,  and  others  laughed  in  my  face.  At 
length  I  ascended  and  sent  my  servant  in  quest  of  a 
gondola,  not  daring  to  make  my  appearance  in  the 
open  street  in  my  then  equipment,  and  I  appointed 
him  to  meet  me  in  the  hall  of  the  great  council,  where 
I  seated  myself  on  a  bench  and  where  I  saw  every- 
body pass  without  being  seen  by  anybody. 

I  began  to  reflect  on  the  profession  of  which  I  had 
made  choice.  There  are  generally  two  hundred  and 
forty  advocates  in  the  list  at  Venice  ;  of  these  there 
are  from  ten  to  twelve  in  the  first  rank,  twenty  per- 
haps in  the  second,  and  all  the  rest  are  obliged  to  hunt 
for  clients,  and  the  pettifogging  attorneys  are  willing 
enough  to  become  their  hounds  on  the  condition  of 
sharing  together  the  prey.  I  was  in  apprehension  for 
myself  as  I  was  last  on  the  list,  and  I  regretted  the 
chanceries  which  I  had  abandoned.  But  then,  on  the 
other  hand,  I  saw  no  profession  so  lucrative  and  hon- 
orable as  that  of  an  advocate.  A  noble  Venetian,  a 
patrician,  a  member  of  the  republic,  who  would  not 
deign  to  become  merchant,  banker,  notary,  physician, 
or  professor  of  a  university,  has  no  hesitation  in  em- 
bracing the  profession  of  an  advocate,  which  he  fol- 
lows in  the  courts,  and  he  calls  the  other  advocates  his 
brothers.  Everything  depended  on  good  fortune  ;  and 
why  was  I  to  be  less  fortunate  than  another  f  The 
attempt  required  to  be  made,  and  it  was  incumbent 
on  me  to    plunge   into  the  chaos  of  the   bar,   where 


130  MEMOIRS   OF 

perseverance  and  probity  lead  to  the  temple  of  for- 
tune. 

While  I  was  thus  musing  by  myself  and  building 
castles  in  Spain,  I  observed  a  fair,  round,  and  plump 
woman  of  about  thirty,  advancing  towards  me,  of  a 
tolerable  figure,  with  a  flat  nose,  roguish  eyes,  a  pro- 
fusion of  gold  about  her  neck,  ears,  arms,  and  fingers, 
and  in  a  dress  which  announced  her  to  be  of  the  inferior 
orders,  but  in  easy  circumstances  ;  she  accosted  and 
'saluted  me.  "  Good  day,  sir."  "  Good  day,  madam." 
"  Will  you  allow  me  to  pay  you  my  compliments  f  " 
"On  what!"  "  On  your  admission  ;  I  observed  you 
making  your  obeisance  at  court:  upon  my  word,  sir, 
you  are  prettily  equipped!"  "Am  I  not?  Do  yon. 
think  me  handsome  ?  "  "  0,  the  dress  is  nothing  ;  M. 
Goldoni  becomes  everything."  "  So  you  know  me, 
madam?"  "Have  not  I  seen  you  four  years  ago  in 
the  land  of  litigation,  in  a  long  peruke  and  a  short 
robe?"  "  You  are  in  the  right,  when  I  was  with  an 
attorney  ?"  "Yes,  with  M.  Indric."  "  So  you  know 
my  uncle,  then?"  "I?  I  know  every  person  here, 
from  the  doge  to  the  clerks  of  court."  "Are  you 
married  ?w  "  Xo."  "Are  you  a  widow?"  "No." 
"  Have  you  any  employment  ?  "  "  Xo."  "  You  have 
a  revenue,  then?"  "None  at  all."  "But  you  are 
well  equipped  ;  and  how  do  you  live  then  ?"  "I  am 
a  girl  of  the  courts,  and  the  courts  maintain  me." 
"  Upon  my  word,  that  is  very  singular  !  You  belong 
to  the  courts,  you  say?"  "Yes,  sir;  my  father  was 
employed  in  them."  «•  What  did  he  follow  ?"  "  He 
listened  at  the  doors,  and  carried  good  news  to  those 
who  were  in  expectation  of  pardons,  or  sentences,  or 
favorable  judgments;  and  as  he  had  good  legs  he  was 
always  first  with  the  news.     My  mother  was  always 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  131 

here  as  well  as  myself;  she  was  not  proud,  she  receive.! 
money  and  accepted  of  a  few  commissions.  I  was  horn 
and  brought  up  in  these  gilded  halls,  and  you  see  I 
have  gold  upon  me."  "  Your  story  is  very  singular; 
so  you  follow  the  footsteps  of  your  mother?  "  "No, 
sir,  I  do  something  else."  "  And  what  is  that  ?"  "I 
solicit  lawsuits."  '* Solicit  lawsuits!  I  do  not  under- 
stand you."  "  I  am  as  well  known  as  Barabbas  ;  all 
the  advocates  .and  attorneys  are  well  known  to  be  my 
friends,  and  many  people  apply  to  me  to  procure  them 
counsel  and  defenders.  Those  who  have  recourse  to 
me  are  not  generally  rich  :  and  I  apply  to  new-comers, 
to  persons  without  emp]  >yment,  who  wish  nothing 
better  than  to  have  an  opportunity  of  making  them- 
selves known.  Do  you  know,  sir,  that,  such  as  you 
see  me,  I  have  made  the  fortune  of  a  good  dozen  of  the 
most  famous  advocates  at  this  bar?  Come,  sir,  take 
courage  ;  with  your  good  leave  I  shall  also  be  the 
making  of  you."  I  was  amused  with  listening  to  her; 
and  as  my  servant  did  not  arrive  I  continued  the  con- 
versation. 

'•Very  well,  madam:  have  you  any  good  affair  at 
present?"  "Yes,  sir,  I  have  several,  and  some  of 
them  excellent  ;  I  have  a  widow  suspected  of  having 
concealed  effects;  another  anxious  that  a  contract  of 
marriage  drawn  posterior  to  its  date  should  be  held 
good;  I  have  girls  who  demand  to  be  portioned;  I 
have  wives  who  wish  a  separation;  and  I  have  people 
of  condition  pursued  by  their  creditors  :  you  see,  you 
have  only  to  choose." 

"  My  good  woman,"  said  I  to  her,  "I  have  allowed 
you  to  speak,  and  I  wish  now  to  speak  in  my  turn.  I 
am  young  and  entering  on  my  career,  and  desirous  of 
occasions  of  employment  where  I  may  appear  to  ad- 


132  MEMOIRS   OF 

vantage  ;  but  the  desire  of  labor  and  the  itch  of  plead- 
ing will  never  induce  me  to  undertake  such  bad  causes 
as  those  you  propose  to  me."  "  Ah,  ah  !  "  said  she, 
''  you  despise  my  clients,  because  I  told  you  there  was 
nothing  to  be  gained  ;  but  listen  :  you  shall  be  well 
paid,  and  even  paid  beforehand  if  you  choose."  I  saw 
my  servant  at  a  distance  ;  I  rose,  and  said  to  the  wo- 
man with  a  firm  and  determined  tone,  "No,  you  are 
not  acquainted  with  me  :  I  am  a  man  of  honor."  She 
laid  hold  of  my  hand,  and  said  with  a  serious  air, 
"  Bravo  !  continue  always  to  entertain  the  same  senti- 
ments." "Ah,  ah,"  said  I  to  her,  "  you  change  your 
language."  u0  yes,"  said  she,  "  and  the  language 
which  I  now  use  is  better  than  that  I  have  quitted. 
Our  conversation  has  not  been  without  mystery  ;  bear 
it  in  mind,  and  take  care  never  to  mention  it.  Adieu, 
sir,  be  always  prudent  and  always  honorable,  and  you 
will  find  your  account  in  it."  On  this  she  went  away, 
and  I  remained  lost  in  astonishment.  I  could  make 
nothing  of  the  matter,  but  I  afterwards  learned  that 
she  was  a  spy  ;  that  she  came  for  the  purpose  of  sound- 
ing me  ;  but  I  never  either  learned  or  wished  to  learn 
by  whom  she  had  been  employed. 


IX. 

I  WAS  now  an  advocate  ;  my  introduction  to  the  bar 
had  taken  place,  and  the  next  thing  was  to  procure 
clients.  I  attended  every  day  in  court,  listening  to  the 
masters  of  the  profession,  and  looking  round  every- 
where to  see  if  my  physiognomy  happened  to  take  with 
any  one  who  might  think  proper  to  give  me  an  oppor- 
tunity of  appearing  in  a  cause  of  appeal.  A  new  ad- 
vocate cannot  shine  and  show  himself  off  to  advantage 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  133 

in  the  tribunals  where  causes  originate  ;  and  it  is  in  the 
superior  courts  alone  that  he  can  display  his  science, 
eloquence,  voice,  and  grace  ;  four  means  all  equally 
necessary  to  place  an  advocate  in  the  first  rank  at 
Venice.  My  Uncle  Indric  was  liberal  in  his  promises, 
and  all  my  friends  were  incessantly  flattering  me  ;  but 
in  the  mean  time  I  was  obliged  to  pass  the  whole  of  the 
afternoon  and  part  of  the  evening  in  a  closet,  that  I 
might  not  lose  the  first  favorable  instant.  - 

One  of  the  most  essential  articles  in  the  profits  of  a 
Venetian  advocate  is  derived  from  consultations.  An 
advocate  of  the  first  order  is  paid  for  a  consultation  of 
not  more  than  three  quarters  of  an  hour  at  the  rate  of 
two  and  three  sequins  ;  and  there  are  sometimes  in  a 
cause  of  consequence  not  less  than  twelve,  fifteen,  and 
twenty  consultations  before  it  is  heard  by  the  judge. 
If  the  advocate  be  employed  to  write  and  draw  up  a 
demand  or  an  answer  in  the  course  of  the  suit,  he  re- 
ceives an  immediate  payment  of  from  four  to  six  and 
twelve  sequins.  The  pleadings  are  not  in  writing  at 
Venice  ;  the  advocate  pleads  viva  voce,  and  his  ha- 
rangue is  paid  for  according  to  the  interest  of  the  cause 
and  the  merit  of  the  defender.  All  this  mounts  to 
something  very  high  ;  in  my  moments  of  solitude  and 
ennui,  I  used  to  amuse  myself  with  attempts  to  calcu- 
late it;  and  as  far  as  I  could  judge,  an  advocate  in 
great  repute  may  gain,  without  injuring  himself,  forty 
thousand  livres  per  annum  ;  a  very  large  sum  indeed  for 
a  country  where  living  is  not  half  so  dear  as  at  Paris. 

Nobody  visited  me  but  a  few  curious  persons  for  the 
sake  of  sounding  me,  or  litigants  of  a  dangerous  de- 
scription. I  listened  patiently  to  them,  and  gave  them 
my  opinion  ;  I  did  not  keep  my  watch  in  my  hand  ;  I 
allowed  them  to  stay  as  long  as  they  chose  ;   I  accom- 


134  MEMOIRS    OF 

panied  them  to  the  door,  and  they  gave  me  nothing. 
This  is  the  lot  of  all  beginners,  who  must  lay  their  ac- 
count with  waiting  for  three  or  four  years  hefore  they 
can  get  a  name,  or  gain  any  money.  I  am  inclined  to 
think,  however,  that  if  I  had  continued  my  career  at 
the  bar,  I  should  have  got  on  much  more  promptly 
than  many  of  my  brethren  :  for  in  six  months  I  pleaded 
a  cause  and  gained  it  ;  hut  my  star  already  threatened 
me  with  a  new  change,  which  I  could  not  avoid.  I 
reserve,  however,  for  another  place,  the  origin  and  con- 
sequences of  a  revolution  much  more  violent  still  than 
that  which  I  had  experienced  in  the  College  of  Pa  via. 

Meanwhile  I  passed  my  time  alone  in  my  closet,  of 
with  very  indifferent  company,  and  I  made  almanacs.  ' 
To  make  almanacs  either  in  Italian  or  French  is 
losing  one's  time  with  useless  fancies;  hut  at  present, 
however,  it  was  otherwise.  I  made  a  real  almanac, 
which  was  printed,  relished,  and  applauded.  I  gave  it 
for  title  gt  The  Experience  of  the  Past  :  Astrologer  of 
the  Future  ;  Critical  Almanac  for  the  year  173*2."  It 
contained  a  general  discourse  on  the  year,  and  four 
discourses  on  the  four  seasons  in  triplets,  interwoven 
in  the  manner  of  Dante,  containing  criticisms  on  the 
manners  of  the  age.  and  for  every  day  of  the  year 
there  was  a  prognostication  containing  a  joke,  a  criti- 
cism, or  a  point.  I  shall  not  give  an  account  of  a 
trine  which  does  not  deserve  the  trouhle.  I  shall 
merely  trauscrihe  the  couplet  for  Easter-day,  because 
this  piece  of  pleasantry,  in  other  respects  perhaps  the 
most  commonplace  of  the  whole,  produced  a  remark- 
able effect  from  the  verification  of  the  prognostication, 
and  both  procured  me  pleasure  and  services  of  great 
importance.  The  prediction  in  Italian  verse  ran  as 
follows  :  — 


CARLO  GOLDONL  135 

"In  si  gran  giorno  nna  gentil  contessa 
Al  perucchier  sacrifica  la  inessa." 

"  In  this  great  day  an  amiable  countess  will  sacrifice  the 
mass  to  her  hairdresser." 

This  little  work,  such  as  it  was,  amused  me  very  much  ; 
for  there  were  then  no  public  amusements  in  Venice, 

and  my  different  occupations  prevented  me  from  think- 
ing of  them.  The  criticisms  and  pleasantries  of  my 
almanac  were  really  of  a  comic  description,  and  each 
prognostication  might  have  furnished  subject-matter 
for  a  comedy.  I  was  then  seized  with  a  desire  to  return 
to  my  old  project,  and  I  sketched  a  few  pieces  ;  hut  on 
reflecting  that  comedy  did  not  harmonize  very  much 
with  the  gravity  of  my  gown,  I  concluded  the  majesty 
of  tragedy  to  be  more  analogous  to  my  profession, 
and  I  was  guilty  of  a  breach  of  fidelity  to  Thalia  in 
ranking  myself  under  the  standard  of  Melpomene. 

As  I  wish  to  conceal  nothing  from  my  reader,  I  must 
reveal  my  secret  to  him.  My  affairs  became  deranged 
(I  shall  soon  explain  why  aud  wherefore).  My  closet 
brought  me  in  nothing,  aud  I  was  under  the  necessity 
of  turning  my  time  to  some  account.  The  profits  in 
comedy  are  very  moderate  in  Italy  for  the  author  ;  and 
from  the  opera  alone  I  could  gain  a  hundred  sequins 
at  once.  With  this  view  I  composed  a  lyrical  tragedy, 
called  Amalosonte.  I  was  well  pleased  with  my  labor, 
and  I  found  people  to  whom  the  reading  of  it  seemed  to 
give  satisfaction  ;  but,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  had  not  made 
choice  of  connoisseurs.  I  shall  afterwards  speak  of 
this  musical  tragedy.  But  I  must  advert  to  a  cause 
which  my  Uncle  Indric  came  to  propose  to  me. 

This  cause  was  a  contest  originating  in  a  hydraulic 
servitude.     A  miller  made  a  purchase  of  a  stream  of 


136  MEMOIRS   OF 

water  for  his  mill.  The  proprietor  of  the  source  altered 
its  direction  ;  and  the  object  of  the  action  was  to  rein- 
state the  miller  in  his  rights,  with  damages  and  inter- 
est. The  town  of  Crema  took  the  miller's  part.  A 
model  had  been  executed  ;  and  legal  investigations, 
violences,  and  rebellions  had  taken  place.  The  cause 
was  of  a  mixed  nature,  partly  civil  and  partly  criminal  ; 
and  it  came  before  the  Avvogadori,  a  very  grave  magis- 
tracy, like  that  of  the  Roman  tribunes  of  the  people. 
The  advocate  opposed  to  me  was  the  celebrated  Corde- 
lina,  the  most  learned  and  eloquent  man  at  the  bar  of 
Venice  ;  and  I  had  to  make  an  immediate  answer  with- 
out, writing  or  time  for  meditation. 

The  day  was  appointed,  and  I  repaired  to  the  proper 
tribunal.  My  adversary  spoke  for  an  hour  and  a  half; 
I  listened  to  him  without  fear.  On  the  conclusion  of 
his  harangue  I  began  mine,  in  which  I  endeavored, 
by  a  pathetic  preamble,  to  conciliate  the  favor  of  my 
judge.  This  was  my  first  exhibition,  and  I  required 
indulgence.  On  entering  upon  the  subject,  I  boldly 
attacked  the  harangue  of  Cordelina;  my  facts  were 
true,  my  reasons  good,  my  voice  sonorous,  and  my 
eloquence  not  displeasing.  I  spoke  for  two  hours,  and 
on  my  couclifsipn  I  retired  bathed  from  head  to  foot. 
My  servant  waited  for  me  in  an  adjoining  room.  I 
changed  my  linen  ;  I  was  fatigued  and  exhausted. 
My  uncle  made  his  appearance,  who  exclaimed,  "  My 
dear  nephew,  we  have  gained  the  action,  and  the 
adverse  party  is  condemned  in  costs.  Courage,  my 
friend,"  continued  he;  "this  first  attempt  makes  you 
known  as  a  man  who  will  get  on,  and  you  will  not  be 
in  want  of  clients."  "Who  would  not  conclude  me  very 
fortunate  ?  —  Heavens  !  what  a  destiny  !  What  a  num- 
ber of  vicissitudes  and  reverses  ! 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  137 

The  unfortunate  event  which  I  am  about  to  recount, 
and  which  I  have  already  announced,  might  have 
appeared  uniting  the  anecdotes  of  the  two  preceding 
years;  but  I  prefer  giving  the  whole  story  at  once,  to 
interweaving  it  piecemeal  with  the  rest  of  my  narra- 
tion.    My  mother  had  been  very  intimate  with  Madame 

St. and  Miss  Mar — ,  tw<  »  sisters  living  apart,  though 

lodged  under  the  same  roof.  During  her  travels  the 
acquaintance  dropped  ;  but  it  was  renewed  on  our 
settling  again  at  Venice.  I  was  introduced  to  these 
ladies  ;  and  as  Miss  Mar —  was  richest,  she  lodged  on 
the  first  floor.  As  she  saw  company,  she  received  the 
greatest  number  of  visits.  Miss  Mar —  was  not  young  ; 
but  she  still  possessed  the  remains  of  beauty.  At  the 
age  of  forty  she  was  as  fresh  as  a  rose,  as  white  as 
snow,  with  a  natural  complexion  ;  large,  sparkling,  and 
intelligent  eyes,  a  charming  mouth,  and  an  agreeable 
embonpoint.  Her  nose  alone  disfigured  her  somewhat. 
It  was  aquiline,  and  à  little  too  much  raised,  which, 
however,  gave  her  an  air  of  importance  when  she  as- 
sumed a  serious  tone.  She  had  always  refused  mar- 
riage, though  from  her  respectable  air  and  her  fortune, 
she  could  never  have  been  in  want  of  advantageous 
offers  ;  and  for  my  good  or  bad  fortune,  it  so  happened 
that  I  was  the  happy  mortal  who  made  the  first  im- 
pression on  lier.  We  understood  one  another,  but 
durst  not  speak;  for  she  acted  the  prude,  and  I  was 
afraid  of  a  refusal.  I  consulted  my  mother,  who  was 
by  no  means  'displeased  ;  and  even,  from  an  opinion 
that  the  match  was  advantageous  to  me,  took  upon  her 
to  open  the  matter.  She  proceeded  very  slowly,  how- 
ever, not  to  draw  me  from  my  professional  occupation, 
and  she  was  desirous  to  see  me  first  somewhat  mora 
firmly  established. 


138  MEMOIRS    OF 

Meanwhile,  I  continued  to  pass  my  evenings  with 
Miss  Mar — .  Her  sister  used  to  join  the  party,  with 
her  two  daughters,  who  were  marriageable.  The 
oldest  was  deformed,  and  the  other  was  ugly.  She 
had,  however,  black  and  roguish  eyes,  an  abundance 
of  entertaining  drollery,  and  possessed  the  most  natural 
and  engaging  gracefulness.  Her  aunt  disliked  her,  for 
she  had  frequently  opp<  >sed  her  in  her  temporary  incli- 
nations, and  never  failed  to  use  her  utmost  efforts 
to  supplant  her  in  my  good  graces.  For  my  part,  I 
amused  myself  with  the  niece,  and  kept  steadfast  to  the 
v  aunt.  In  the  mean  time  an  excellency  contrived  to 
introduce  himself  to  Miss  Mar — ,  and  paid  her  some 
attentions,  of  which  she  was  the  dupe.  Neither  of 
*w  them  had  the  least  affection  for  the  other;  the  lady 
*A     .       wished  the  title,  and  his  excellency  the  fortune. 

However,  seeing  myself  deprived  of  the  place  of 
honor  which  I  had  occupied,  I  was  piqued,  and,  by 
way  of  revenge,  paid  my  court  to  her  detested  rival.  I 
carried  my  vengeance  so  far  that  in  two  months'  time 
I  became  completely  enamored,  and  I  drew  up  for  my 
ugly  mistress  a  good  contract  of  marriage,  regular  and 
formal  in  every  respect.  The  mother  of  the  young 
woman  and  her  adherents,  it  is  true,  made  use  of  every 
means  to  get  hold  of  me.  In  our  contract  there  were 
articles  very  advantageous  for  me  ;  I  was  to  receive  an 
income  belonging  to  the  young  lady  ;  her  mother  was 
to  give  up  her  diamonds  to  her;  and  I  was  to  receive  a 
considerable  sum  of  money  from  a  friend  of  the  family, 
whom  they  would  not  name  to  me. 

I  still  continued  to  visit  Miss  Mar — ,  and  passed  the 
evenings  as  usual;  but  the  aunt  distrusted  the  niece, 
for  whom  my  attentions  were,  as  she  could  perceive, 
somewhat  less  reserved.     She  knew  that  for  some  time 


CARLO  GOLDONL  139 

I  usually  ascended  to  the  second  floor  before  entering  J) .'  ^  . 
the  first:  she  was  devoured  by  vexation,  and  wished 
to   get   rid  of  her  sister,  her  nieces,  and  myself.     For 
this  purpose  she  solicited  her  marriage  with  the  gentle- EU^*"^ 
mau  whom  she  supposed  she  had  secured;    and  pro-, 
posed  to  him  to  agree  upon  the  time  and  conditions  :  q 
but   what  was  her  astonishment   and   humiliation  to 
receive  for  answer  that  his  excellency  demanded   the 
half  of  her  property  as  a  donation  on  marrying  her, 
and  the  other  half  after  her  death!     She  was  seized 
with  transports  of  rage,  hatred,   and  contempt  ;  she 
sent  a  formal  refusal  to  her  suitor,  and  almost  died  of 
grief.     All  this   was  communicated  by  persons  about 
the  house  to  the  eldest  sister,  and  it  threw  both  mother 
and  daughter  into  the  greatest  joy.     Miss  Mar — did 
not  dare  to  speak  ;    she   was  forced  to  stomach  her 
chagrin;  ami,  seeing  me  display  marks  of  kindness  for 
the  niece,  she  cast  now  and  then  a  furious  look  at  me 
with  her  large  eyes,  which  were  inflamed  with  rage. 
In  this  society  we  were  all  of  us  bad  politicians.     Miss 
Mar — ,  who  knew  not  the  footing  on  which  her  niece 
received  me,  still  flattered  herself  with  the  hope  of  tear- 
ing me  from  the  object  of  her  jealousy,  and  on  account  • 
of  the  difference  of  fortune,  of  again  seeing  me  at  her  * 
feet  :  but  the  perfidious  part  of  which  I  am  now  going  K   V-A 
to  accuse  myself  soon  completely  undeceived  her.     I 
composed  a  song  for  my  mistress,  which  was  set  to 
music  by  an  amateur  of  taste,  with  the  intention  of 
having  it  sung  in  a  serenade  on  the  canal  which  the 
house  of  these  ladies  overlooked.     I  took  an  opportu- 
nity favorable  for  the  execution  of  my  project,  fully  v 
sure  of  pleasing  the  one  and  provoking  the  other.            Kh** 

About  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  we  were 
assembled  in  a  party  in  the  saloon  of  the  aunt,  a  very 


140  MEMOIRS   OF 

jtA^'^'noisy  symphony  was  heard  on  the  canal  under  the  bal- 
cony of  the  aunt,  and  consequently  also  under  the 
windows  of  the  niece.  We  all  rose  that  we  might 
enjoy  it  ;  and  on  the  conclusion  of  the  overture,  we 
heard  the  charming  voice  of  Agnese,  a  female  singer 
then  in  fashion  for  serenades,  who,  from  the  sweet- 
ness of  her  voice  and  the  purity  of  her  expression, 
gave  an  effect  to  the  music  and  a  celebrity  to  the 
couplets. 

The  song  was  successful  at  Venice,  and  sung  up 
and  down  everywhere  ;  hut  it  lighted  up  the  torch  of 
discord  in  the  minds  of  the  two  rivals,  each  of  whom 
appropriated  it  to  herself.  I  tranquillized  the  niece 
by  assuring  her  in  a  whisper  that  the  fête  was  intended 
for  her,  and  I  left  the  mind  of  the  other  in  doubt  and 
agitation.  I  received  compliments  from  every  one, 
which,  however,  I  refused,  and  continued  incognito; 
but  I  was  by  no  means  sorry  to  be  suspected. 

Next  day  I  made  my  entrance  at  the  usual  hour. 
Miss  Mar — ,  who  was  watching  for  me,  saw  me  enter, 

v/A^      came  out  to  me  in  the  passage,  and  made  me  accom- 
"    V-   pany  her  into  her  room.     Having  requested  me  to  sit 

jt  .  down  beside  her,  she  said  to  me,  with  a  serious  and 
passionate  air,  "You  have  regaled  us  with  a  very 
brilliant  entertainment  ;  but  as  there  are  more  women 
/than  one  in  this  house,  for  whom,  pray.  Mas  this  piece 
of  gallantry  intended  \  I  know  not  whether  I  have  a 
right  to  return  you  my  thanks."  ''Madam,"  I  an- 
swered, '•  I  am  not  the  author  of  the  serenade." 
Here  she  interrupted  me  with  a  proud  and  almost 
threatening  air.  "  Do  not  conceal  yourself,"  said  she  : 
"  the  effort  is  useless:  tell  me  only  whether  this 
amusement  was  intended  for  me  or  for  another.  I 
must   warn   you,"  continued  she,   "that  this  déclara- 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  141 

tion  may  become  serious  ;  that  it  ought  to  be  decisive  ;    ^ 
and  another  word  shall  not  be  heard  from  me  on  the 
subject." 

Had  I  been  free,  I  know  not  what  answer  I  should 
have  made;  but  I  was  tied  down,  and  had  but  one 
answer  to  give.  "  Madam,"  said  I,  "  supposing  me  to 
be  the  author  of  the  serenade,  I  should  never  have 
dared  to  address  it  to  you."  "  Why  not  ?  "  said  she. 
"Because,"  I  answered,  "  your  views,  are  too  ele- 
vated for  me  ;  and  great  lords  alone  can  merit  your 
esteem  —  "  "This  is  enough,"  said  she,  rising: 
"  I  comprehend  everything  sufficiently  :  very  well,  sir, 
yon  will  repent  it."  (She  was  in  the  right:  I  have 
repented  it  very  much.)  »  \,Al 

War  was  now  declared.  Miss  Mar — ,  piqued  at  be- 
ing  supplanted  by  her  niece,  and  afraid  of  seeing  her  ^o/^* 
married  before  herself,  turned  her  views  elsewhere. 
Opposite  her  windows  there  was  a  respectable  family, 
not  titled,  but  allied  to  patrician  families  ;  and  the 
eldest  son  had  paid, his  court  to  Miss  Mar — ,  and  met 
with  a  refusal.  She  endeavored  to  renew  the  inter- 
course with  the  young  man,  who  was  not  backward  on 
his  part  ;  she  purchased  a  very  honorable  situation  for 
him,  and  in  six  days'  time  everything  was  agreed  on 
and  the  marriage  concluded.  M.  Z ,  the  new  hus- 
band, had  a  sister  who  was  to  be  married  the  same 
month  to  a  gentleman  of  the  mainland  ;  both  mar- 
riages of  persons  in  easy  circumstances  ;  and  that  of 
my  mistress  and  myself  was  to  be  the  third  ;  and  not- 
withstanding our  poverty,  we  were  also  obliged  to  put 
on  an  appearance  of  wealth  and  ruin  ourselves.  This 
was  what  deranged  my  affairs  and  reduced  me  to  ex- 
tremities.    But  how  was  I  to  extricate  myself  ! 

My  mother  knew  nothing  of  what  was  going  on  in  a    \\^^\ 


142  MEMOIRS   OF 

house  which  she  seldom  visited, 
ing  herself  of  the  ceremonies  usual  on  such  occasions, 
■  was  malicious  enough  to  inform  her  of  it  ;  she  sent  her 
a  marriage  card;  my  mother  was  greatly  astonished; 
she  spoke  to  me;  I  was  obliged  to  own  everything; 
still,  however,  I  endeavored  to  soften  the  folly  com- 
mitted by  me  in  giving  effect  to  promises  of  a  nature 
lint  altogether  to  be  relied  on  ;  and  I  concluded  by 
telling  her  that  at  my  age  a  wife  of  forty  was  not  a 
suitable  match  for  me.  This  last  reason  seemed  to 
appease  my  mother  more  than  all  the  rest.  She  asked 
me  whether  the  time  was  yet  fixed  for  my  marriage. 
I  told  her  that  it  was,  and  that  we  had  still  three  good 
*  months  before  us.  A  marriage  at  Venice  in  form,  and 
**^S^  with  all  the  customary  follies,  is  a  much  more  cere- 
monious affair  than  anywhere  else.  In  the  first  place, 
there  is  the  signature  of  the  contract,  with  the  inter- 
vention of  parents  and  friends,  a  formality  which  we 
avoided  by  signing  our  contract  secretly.  Secondly, 
the  presentation  of  the  ring.  This  is  not  the  marriage- 
ring,  but  a  stone  ring,  a  solitary  diamond,  which  the 
bridegroom  must  make  a  present  of  to  his  bride.  The 
relations  and  friends  are  invited  on  this  occasion  :  there 
is  a  great  display  in  the  house  ;  great  pomp  and  much 
dressing  ;  and  no  meeting  takes  place  at  Venice  with- 
out expensive  refreshments.  This  expense  we  could 
not  avoid  ;  for  our  marriage,  however  ridiculous,  could 
not  be  kept  secret  ;  and  we  were  obliged  to  do  like 
other  people,  and  go  completely  through  with  things. 
The  third  ceremony  is  the  presentation  of  the  pearls. 
A  few  days  before  the  nuptial  benediction  takes  place, 
the  mother,  or  the  nearest  relation  of  the  bridegroom, 
waits  on  the  bride,  and  presents  her  with  a  necklace  of 
fine  pearls,  which  the  young  lady  wears  regularly  about 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  143 

her  neck  from  that  day  to  the  termination  of  the  first 
year  of  her  marriage.  Few  families  possess  these  pearl 
necklaces,  or  wish  to  be  at  the  expense  of  them  ;  but 
they  are  hired,  and  if  they  are  anything  beautiful,  the 
hire  is  very  high.  This  presentation  is  attended  with 
balls,  entertainments,  and  dresses,  and  consequently  is 
very  expensive. 

I  shall  say  nothing  of  the  other  successive  ceremonies 
which  are  nearly  similar  to  those  which  take  place 
everywhere.  I  stop  at  that  of  the  pearls,  which  I  ought 
to  have  gone  through,  but  which  I  omitted  for  â  hun- 
dred reasons;  the  first  of  which  was,  that  I  had  no 
more  money.  On  the  approach  of  this  last  preliminary 
of  the  nuptials,  I  intimated  to  my  intended  mother-in- 
law,  that  I  now  expected  the  performance  of  the  three 
conditions  of  our  contract.  These  were  the  revenues 
which  were  to  he  assigned  over  to  me,  the  diamonds 
which  the  mother  agreed  to  deposit  in  the  hands  of 
her  daughter,  or  mine,  before  the  day  of  the  presenta- 
tion of  the  pearls,  and  the  putting  me  in  possession  of 
the  whole  or  part  of  the  considerable  sum  which  was 
promised  to  lier  by  the  unknown  protector.  The  fol- 
lowing is  the  result  of  the  conference  which  one  of  my 
cousins  took  the  charge  of.  The  revenues  of  the  young 
lady  consisted  in  one  of  those  life-annuities  destined  by 
the  republic  for  a  certain  number  of  females  ;  but  they 
must   all  wait   their  turn;  and  there  were  still  four  to 

die  before  Miss  St. could  enjoy  hers  :  she  herself 

might  even  die  before  touching  the  first  quarter's  pay- 
ment. As  to  the  diamonds,  they  were  decidedly  des- 
tined for  the  daughter;  but  the  mother,  who  was  still 
young,  would  not  consent  to  part  with  them  during  her 
own  lifetime,  and  would  only  agree  to  give  them  after 
her  death.     With  regard  to  the  gentleman  who  was 


144  MEMOIRS    OF 

to  give  the  money  (for  what  reason  is  not  so  clear), 
he  had  undertaken  a  journey,  and  was  not  to  return  for 
some  time. 

Such  was  the  comfortable  situation  in  which  I  was 
placed.  I  had  not  sufficient  means  to  support  an  ex- 
pensive establishment,  and  still  less  to  enable  me  to 
vie  with  the  luxury  of  two  fortunate  couples.  My 
closet  yielded  me  little  or  nothing  ;  I  had  contracted 
debts  :  I  saw  myself  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  and 
I  was  in  love  !  I  mused,  I  reflected,  I  sustained  a  dis- 
tressing conflict  between  love  and  reason  ;  but  at  last 
the  latter  gained  the  victory  over  the  dominion  of  the 
senses.  I  communicated  my  situation  to  my  mother, 
who,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  agreed  with  me  that  some 
violent  resolution  was  absolutely  necessary  to  avoid 
ruin.  She  mortgaged  her  property  to  pay  my  debts  at 
Venice  ;  I  assigned  over  my  Modena  property  for  her 
maintenance,  and  I  formed  the  resolution  of  departing. 
In  the  moment  when  I  had  the  most  flattering  pros- 
pects, after  the  successful  appearance  made  by  me  in 
court  in  the  midst  of  the  acclamations  of  the  bar,  I 
quitted  my  country,  my  relations,  my  friends,  my  love, 
my  hopes,  and  my  profession  ;  I  took  my  departure, 
and  landed  at  Padua  :  the  first  step  was  taken,  the  rest 
cost  me  nothing;  for,  thanks  to  the  goodness  of  my 
temperament,  excepting  my  mother,  everything  else 
,v'  was  soon  forgotten  by  me  ;  and  the  pleasure  of  liberty 
consoled  me  for  the  loss  of  my  mistress. 

On  leaving  Venice,  I  wrote  a  letter  to  the  mother 
of  the  unfortunate  young  woman  ;  and  I  attributed  to 
her  the  immediate  cause  of  the  resolution  to  which  I 
was  reduced.  I  assured  her  that  on  the  fulfilment  of 
the  three  conditions  of  the  contract,  I  should  soon  re- 
turn ;  and,  expecting  an  answer,  I  still  continued  my 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  145 

journey.  I  carried  my  treasure  along  with  me.  This 
was  Amalasontc,  which  I  had  composed  during  my 
leisure,  and  respecting  which  I  entertained  hopes  which 
I  believed  to  be  extremely  well  founded.  I  knew  that 
the  opera  of  Milan  was  one  of  the  most  considerable 
not  only  of  Italy,  but  of  all  Europe.  I  proposed,  there-  A/U^J 
fore,  to  present  my  drama  to  the  direction  at  Milan, 
which  is  in  the  hands  of  the  nobility.  I  calculated  on 
the  reception  of  my  work,  and  that  I  could  not  fail  to 
obtain  the  hundred  sequins  ;  but  he  who  reckons  with- 
out his  host,  reckons  twice.  \/ 

X. 

In  my  way  from  Padua  to  Milan,  I  arrived  at  Vi- 

cenza,  where    I  stopped  for   four  days.     In  this  city  |/ 

I  was  acquainted  with  Count  Parminion  Triscino,  of    J/vv> 
the  family  of  the  celebrated  author  of  Sophonisba,  a 
tragedy  composed  in  the  Grecian  manner,  and  one  of 
the  best  pieces  of  the  good  age  of  Italian  literature.     I 
knew  M.  Trissino  in  early  youth  at  Venice.     We  both^v  vô 
of  us  had  a  taste  for  the  dramatic  art.     I  showed  him 
my  Amalasonte,  which  he  applauded  very  coldly,  and 
he  advised   me  to  be  constant  to  comedy,  for  which 
he  knew  me  to  possess  talents.     I  was  displeased  to    \^  (i 
find  he  did  not  think  my  opera  charming,  and  I  attrib- 
uted his  coolness  to  the  preference  which  he  himself  H*  C 
manifested  for  comedy. 

I  saw  with  pleasure  at  Yicenza  the  famous  Olympic  ^Ta/\ 
theatre  of  Palladio,  a  very  celebrated  architect  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  and  a  native  of  that  city  ;  and  I 
admired  his  triumphal  arch,  which  with  no  other  or- 
naments but  those  of  the  regularity  of  its  proportions, 
passes  for  the   chef-d'oeuvre   of  modern  architecture. 


146  MEMOIRS   OF 

The  beautiful  models  exist,  and  the  imitations  are  rare. 
I  passed  from  Yieenza  to  Verona,  where  I  was  desirous 
of  becoming  acquainted  with  the  Marquis  Maffei,  the 
author  of  Merope,  a  very  successful  work,  which  has 
been  happily  imitated.  This  man,  who  was  versed  in 
every  department  of  literature,  knew  better  than  any 
person  the  necessity  for  the  reform  of  the  Italian  thea- 
tre. He  attempted  the  undertaking,  and  published  a 
volume  with  the  title  of  "  Reform  of  the  Italian  Thea- 
tre "  ;  which  contained  his  Merope  aud  two  comedies, 
the  Ceremonies  and  Rajout.  The  tragedy  met  with 
general  applause  ;  but  the  two  comedies  were  not  so 
successful. 

Not  finding  M.  Maffei  at  Verona,  I  took  the  road  to 
l/^^  Brescia,  and  stopped  for  the  night  at  Desenzano,  on 
j,**1  the  Lago  di  Garda.  Supping  at  the  tahle-d'hote,  where, 
notwithstanding  my  chagrin,  I  ate  with  the  best  ap- 
petite in  the  world,  I  happened  to  be  seated  beside 
an  abbé  of  the  town  of  Salo,  whose  agreeable  conver- 
sation prompted  me  to  visit  that  charming  country, 
where  we  proceed  through  orange-trees  in  the  open 
air,  and  always  along  the  banks  of  a  delightful  lake. 
Another  reason  determined  me  to  turn  aside  from  my 
road.  I  was  very  short  of  money.  Fortunately,  my 
mother  was  proprietor  of  a  house  at  Salô,  and,  beiug 
known  to  the  tenant,  I  had  reason  to  flatter  myself 
that  I  should  obtain  something  from  him. 

It  was  but  four  leagues  from  Deseuzano  to  Salo,  and 
the  abbé  and  myself  proposed  this  journey  on  horse- 
back for  the  sake  of  enjoying  the  pleasure  of  the  road. 
On  the  third  day  I  returned  alone,  after  a  great  deal  of 
amusement,  with  a  few  sequins  in  my  pocket,  advanced 
me  by  my  mother's  tenant.  I  paid  the  driver,  who 
waited  my  return,  his  three  days'  repose,  and  resumed 
the  Brescia  road. 


7 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  147 

When  at  Vieenzaj  I  wrote  to  M.  Novello,  whom  I    '    ( 

had  known  at  Feltre  in  the  quality  of  vicar  of  the 
government,  and  who  was  then  assessor  of  the  gov- 
ernor of  Brescia.     I  alighted  at  the  government-pal- 

M6!    ML.   Novello   received   me  very  graciously  ;   and, 
recollecting  some  comic  trifles  composed  by  me  at  Fel- 
tre, he  asked  me  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  at  sup- 
per, whether  I  had  anything  of  the  same  kind  to  show  , 
him.      I  mentioned  my  opera,  which  he  expressed  a 
curiosity  to  hear.      We  fixed   on  the  following   day.— r 
He  invited  to  dinner  along  with  us  several  literary 
men,  of  whom  there  are  many  in  that  part  of  the  coun-    j/£o 
try  in  deserved  estimation,  and  after  coffee  I  commenced 
my  drama,  which  was  listened  to  with  attention,  and  l     \  I 
unanimously  applauded. 

As  my  judges  were  connoisseurs,  I  had  every  reason    N 
to  he  satisfied.     They  even  analyzed  my  piece.     The 
character  of  Amalasonte  was  well  imagined  and  well  .^y1 
sustained,  and  was  a  moral  lesson  for  queen-mothers 
charged  with  the  guardianship  and  education  of  their 
august  children.     The  good  and  had  courtiers,  artfully 
contrasted,  formed  an  interesting  picture,  and  the  un- 
fortunate catastrophe  ofAtalaric  and  the  triumph  of 
Amalasonte  formed  a  denouement,  which,  while  it  sat- 
isfied the  severe  laws  of  tragedy,  was  productive  of  the 
entertainment  and  pleasure  peculiar  to  the  melodrama. 
My  style  appeared   to   this  judicious   assembly  more 
adapted  to  tragedy  than  music,  and  they  could  have 
wished  me  to  suppress  the  airs  and  the  rhyme  for  the 
sake  of  converting  it  into  a  good  tragedy.     I  thanked 
them  for  their  indulgence,  hut  I  was  not  in  a  situation 
to  profit  by  their  advice.     In  Italy  a  tragedy  with  all  t 
the   excellence   of   Corneille  or   Racine    might    have  v  ^~ -' 
gained  me  high  honor,  but  very  little  profit  ;  and  I  was 


148  MEMOIRS    OF 

in  want  of  both.     I  quitted  Brescia  with  the  determi- 
ç.*  f    nation  of  leaving  my  drama  untouched,  and  of  offering 
it  to  the  opera  of  Milan. 

There  is  a  shorter  way  from  Brescia  to  Milan,  but  I 
was  desirous  of  seeing  Bergamo,  and  I  took  the  road 
by  that  city.  In  traversing  the  country  of  Harlequin, 
I  was  curious  to  observe  whether  there  was  any  existing 
trace  of  that  comic  character  which  afforded  such  en- 
tertainment to  the  Italian  theatre.  I  could  see  neither 
the  black  visages,  nor  the  small  eyes,  nor  the  ludicrous 
party-colored  dress,  but  I  observed  the  hair  tails  in  the 
hats  with  winch  the  peasants  of  those  districts  are  still 
equipped.  I  shall  speak  of  the  mask  and  of  the  char- 
acter and  origin  of  Harlequin  in  a  chapter  dedicated  to 
the  history  of  the  four  masks  of  Italian  comedy.  On 
mv  arrival  at  Bergamo,  I  alighted  at  an  inn  in  the 
suburbs,  as  carriages  are  unable  to  ascend  to  the  town, 
which  is  very  high  and  very  steep.  I  went  on  foot  to 
the  government  quarter,  which  is  precisely  the  summit 
of  this  rough  mountain.  Extremely  fatigued,  and 
cursing  my  idle  curiosity,  knowing  nobody,  and  re- 
quiring repose,  I  at  last  remembered  that  M.  Porta, 
my  old  companion  in  the  criminal  chancery  of  Chiozza, 
had  been  appointed  civil  chancellor  of  Bergamo.  I 
inquired  for  his  residence,  which  I  found  out  :  my 
friend,  however,  was  not  at  home,  but  six  leagues  dis- 
tant, on  a  commission  relative  to  his  office.  I  re- 
quested his  servant  to  allow  me  to  rest  myself  a  mo- 
ment, and  in  the"  course  of  my  conversation  with  him 
rl  asked  who  was  governor  of  the  town.  What  pleas- 
ing news  !  What  an  agreeable  surprise  for  me  !  It 
was  his  excellency  Bonfadini,  he  who  was  podestà  at 
Chiozza  while  I  served  there  in  quality  of  vice-chan- 
cellor. '  I  found  myself  all  at  once  quite  at  home,  and 


CARLO  GOLDONI.  149 

I  went  immediately  to  the  palace  and  announced  my- 
self. 

While  I  was  in  the  antechamber  waiting  for  ad- 
mission, I  heard  the  governor   himself  laughing  and  r^^f 
exclaiming  aloud,  "Ah!  the  astrologer!     It  is  the  as-  *; 
trologer!     Show  him  in.     Ladies,   you  shall  see  the 
astrologer."     I  could  not  conceive  the  meaning  of  all 
this;  I  was  afraid  lest  an  attempt  should  be  made  toW*' 
hold  me  up  to  ridicule,  and  I  entered  under  very  con- 
siderable embarrassment.     The  governor  soon  quieted 
my  apprehensions,  and  put  me  at  my  ease.     He  rose, 
and  came  forward  to  receive  me,  and  introduce  me  to 
his  lady  and  the  society  :  "  This  is  M.  Goldoni  ;  do  not 

you  recollect,  ladies,  the  Countess  C ,  whom  we  used 

to  rally  on  account  of  being  perpetually  at  her  toilet 
and  never  at  mass,  and  the  prognostication  of  the  anon- 
ymous author?  Well,  this  is  M.  Goldoni,  the  author 
of  the  Critical  Almanac  in  question."  On  this  every 
one  was  anxious  to  show  me  some  attention;  the  gov- 
ernor invited  me  to  his  house  and  his  table  ;  an  invita- 
tion which  I  accepted  and  profited  by,  for  fifteen  days 
passed  by  me  in  the  most  agreeable  manner  in  the 
world.  I  was  obliged,  however,  to  make  one  with  the 
ladies  at  play,  and  I  was  neither  rich  nor  fortunate.  .    v 

The  governor,  who  was  both  respectful  and  consider-  V^ 
ate,  abstained  from  inquiring  into  the  motives  of  my 
journey.  After  a  few  days,  however,  I  thought  proper 
to  communicate  my  adventures  and  my  situation  to 
him.  He  felt  for  me,  and  offered  to  keep  me  with  him 
during  the  ten  remaining  months  of  his  government  ; 
an  offer  for  which  I  thanked  him,  but  which  I  could 
not  accept.  I  requested  him,  however,  to  give  me 
letters  of  recommendation  for  Milan  ;  and  he  gave  me 
several,  and,  among    others,   I   received  one  from  his 


150  MEMOIRS   OF 

lady  for  the  Resident  of  Venice,  which  proved  of  great 
utility  to  me.  On  the  expiration  of  fifteen  days  I  took 
my  leave  of  his  excellency.  My  air  was  by  uo  means 
expressive  of  content.  He  questioned  me  closely  on 
the  subject  :  but  I  did  not  dare  to  say  anything  ;  yet 
he  could  easily  perceive  that  my  embarrassment  did 
not  proceed  from  excessive  wealth.  He  opened  his 
purse,  I  refused  ;  he  iusisted.  I  modestly  took  ten 
sequins,  for  which  I  wished  to  give  him  my  note,  but 
he  refused  to  take  it.  What  goodness  and  kindness  !  I 
took  my  departure  next  day,  and  continued  my  journey. 

I  arrived  at  length  at  Milan,  the  venerable  capital 
of  Lombardy,  the  ancient  appanage  of  the  Spanish 
monarchy,  where  I  should  have  appeared  with  the 
cloak  and  ruff,  according  to  the  Castilian  costume,  had 
not  the  satiric  Muse  deprived  me  of  the  place  for  which 
I  was  destined.  I  was  now  a  candidate  for  the  cothur- 
nus ;  but  the  honors  of  a  triumph  were  reserved  for  the 
sock.  I  went  to  lodge  at  the  Hotel  del  Pozzo,  one  of 
the  most  famous  iu  Milan  ;  for  if  we  wish  to  exhibit 
ourselves  to  advantage,  we  must,  at  least,  appear  rich, 
if  we  be  not  so  in  reality  ;  and  next  day  I  carried  the 
letter  of  recommendation  of  the  governor's  lady  to  the 
Resident  of  Venice. 

M.  Bartolini,  secretary  of  the  senate,  and  formerly 
vice-bay  at  Constantinople,  was  then  resident.  He 
was  very  rich,  very  maguificent,  and  in  as  high  consid- 
eration at  Milan  as  at  Venice.  Several  years  after- 
wards he  was  uamed,  by  election  grand  chancellor  of 
the  republic;  a  dignity  which  he  continued  to  enjoy  to 
the  period  of  his  death,  which  gives  the  title  of  "  excel- 
lency ,?  to  the  person  who  holds  it,  and  gives  him  a 
place  immediately  after  the  actual  nobility.  The  Resi- 
dent of  Venice  being  the  only  foreign  minister  resident 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  151 

at  Milan,  on  account  of  the  daily  affairs  which  take 
place  between  the  two  neighboring  states,  the  Venetian 
envoy  enjoys  the  highest  consideration,  and  is  consid- 
ered on  an  equal  footing  with  grandees  of  the  duchy  of 
Milan. 

This  minister  received  ine  in  the  most  frank  and 
encouraging  manner.  He  had  a  high  esteem  for  the 
lady  by  whom  I  was  recommended,  anrl  offered  every 
assistance  within  his  own  power,  or  within  the  reach 
of  his  interest  ;  but  with  a  grave  and  ministerial  air  he 
inquired  into  the  motives  of  my  journey  to  Milan,  and 
the  nature  of  the  adventures  mentioned  in  the  letter  of 
Madame  Bonfadini.  The  question  was  natural  and 
proper,  and  my  answer  simple.  I  related  to  him,  from 
beginning  to  end,  the  whole  story  of  the  aunt  and^  the 
niece.  The  resident  was  acquainted  with  the  persons, 
and  laughed  heartily  at  my  recital;  and  with  respect 
to  the  fear  expressed  by  me,  lest  I  should  be  pursued 
and  molested,  he  assured  me  that  I  need  be  under  no 
apprehension  at  Milan. 

The  naïveté  of  my  conversation,  and  the  detail  of  my 
adventures,  led  the  minister  to  conclude  I  was  by  no 
means  rich  ;  and  he  asked  me  in  a  very  noble  man- 
ner, if  I  stood  in  need  of  anything  for  my  present 
supply.  I  thanked  him  ;  I  had  still  some  of  my  Ber- 
gamo sequins,  and  I  had  my  opera,  and  wanted  assist- 
ance from  nobody.  M.  Bartolini  invited  me  to  dine 
with  him  next  day  ;  I  accepted  his  invitation,  and  took 
my  leave  of  him. 

I  was  eager  to  present  my  piece,  and  to  have  it  read. 
We  were  then  in  the  very  time  of  the  carnival.  There 
was  an  opera  at  Milan,  and  I  was  acquainted  with 
CafFariello,  the  principal  actor,  and  also-  with  the 
director  and  composer  of  the   ballets,    and   his   wife 


152  MEMOIKS    OF 

(Madame  Grossatesta),  who  was  the  principal  dancer. 
I  thought  it  would  look  becoming,  and  be  of  advan- 
tage, for  me  to  be  presented  to  the  directors  of  the 
Milan  theatre  by  known  individuals.  On  a  Friday,  a 
day  of  relaxation  throughout  almost  all  Italy,  I  waited 
in  the  evening  on  Madame  Grossatesta,  who  kept  an 
open  house,  where  the  actors,  actresses,  and  dancers 
of  the  opera  usually  assembled.  This  excellent  dancer, 
who  was  my  countrywoman,  and  whom  I  .knew  at 
Venice,  received  me  with  the  utmost  politeness  ;  and 
her  husband,  a  clever  and  well-informed  Modenese, 
had  a  dispute  with  his  wife  respecting  my  country,  in 
which  he  very  gallantly  maintained  that  by  descent 
mine  was  the  same  as  his  own.  It  was  still  early,  and 
as  we  were  almost  alone,  I  took  advantage  of  that  cir- 
cumstance to  announce  my  project  to  them.  They  were 
enchanted  with  it,  and  promised  to  introduce  me,  and 
they  congratulated  me  beforehand  on  the  reception  of 
my  work. 

The  company  continued  to  increase  ;  Caffariello 
made  his  appearance,  saw  and  recognized  me,  saluted 
me  with  the  tone  of  an  Alexander,  and  took  his  place 
beside  the  mistress  of  the  house.  A  few  minutes  after- 
wards, Count  Prata,  one  of  the  directors  of  the  theatre, 
the  most  skilled  in  everything  relative  to  the  drama, 
was  announced.  Madame  Grossatesta  introduced  me 
to  the  count  and  spoke  to  him  of  my  opera,  and  he 
undertook  to  propose  me  to  the  assembly  of  directors  ; 
but  it  would  afford  him  infinite  pleasure,  he  said,  to 
know  something  of  my  work  ;  a  wish  in  which  he  was 
joined  by  my  countrywoman.  I  wanted  nothing  so 
much  as  an  opportunity  of  reading  it.  A  small  table 
and  a  candle  were  brought  towards  us,  round  which 
we  all  seated  ourselves,  and  I  began  to  read.     I  an- 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  1 


■JO 


nounced  the  title  of  "  Arnalasonte."  Caffariello  sang 
the  word  "  Ainalasonte  n  ;  it  was  long,  and  seemed  ridicu- 
lous to  him.  Everybody  laughed  bat  myself:  the  lady 
scolded,  and  the  nightingale  was  silent.  I  read  over  the 
names  of  the  characters,  of  which  there  were  nine  in 
the  piece.  Here  a  small  shrill  voice,  which  proceeded 
from  an  old  castrato  who  sung  in  the  choruses,  and 
who  mewed  like  a  cat,  cried  out,  "Too  many,  too 
many  ;  there  are  at  least  two  characters  too  many." 
I  saw  that  I  was  by  no  means  at  my  ease,  and  wished 
to  give  over  my  reading.  M.  Prata  imposed  silence  on 
this  insolent  fellow,  who  had  not  the  merit  of  Cana- 
ri Ho  to  excuse  him,  and,  turning  to  me,  observed,  "It 
is  true,  sir,  there  are  usually  not  more  than  six  or 
seven  characters  in  a  drama;  but  when  a  work  is  de- 
serving of  it,  we  willingly  put  ourselves  to  the  expense 
of  two  actors.  Have  the  goodness,"  he  added,  "to 
continue  the  reading,  if  you  please." 

I  resumed  my  reading,  —  Act  first,  scene  first,  Clode- 
sile  and  Arpagon.  Here  M.  Caffariello  again  asked  me 
the  name  of  the  first  soprano  in  my  opera.  "  Sir,"  said  I, 
"  it  is  Clodesile."  "  What  !  "  said  he,  "  you  open  the 
scene  with  the  principal  actor,  and  make  him  appear 
while  all  the  people  enter,  seat  themselves,  and  make  a 
noise.  Truly,  sir,  I  am  not  your  man."  (What  pa- 
tience!) M.  Prata  here  interposed.  "  Let  us  see,"  said 
he,  "  whether  the  scene  is  interesting."  I  read  the 
first  scene,  and  while  I  was  repeating  my  verses,  a  lit- 
tle insignificant  wretch  drew  a  paper  from  his  pocket, 
and  went  to  the  harpsichord  to  recite  an  air  in  his  part. 
The  mistress  of  the  house  was  obliged  to  make  me  ex- 
cuses without  intermission.  M.  Prata  took  me  by  the 
hand,  and  conducted  me  into  a  dressing-closet  at  a  con- 
siderable distance  from  the  room. 


154  MEMOIRS    OF 

The  count,  having  requested  me  to  seat  myself,  sat 
down  beside  me  and  endeavored  to  pacify  me  respect- 
ing the  misbehavior  of  a  set  of  giddy  fools.  He  re- 
quested me  to  read  my  drama  to  himself  alone,  that  he 
might  be  able  to  form  a  judgment  of  it,  and  to  tell  me 
his  opinion  with  sincerity.  I  was  very  well  pleased  with 
this  act  of  complaisance,  for  which  I  returned  him  my 
thanks,  and  I  began  the  reading  of  my  piece,  which  I 
went  through  from  the  first  verse  to  the  last,  not  spar- 
ing him  a  single  comma.  He  listened  with  attention, 
with  patience  ;  and,  on  the  conclusion  of  the  reading, 
he  gave  me  the  result  of  his  attention  and  judgment 
nearly  in  the  fol] owing  words  :  — 

"  It  appears  to  me,"  said  he,  "  that  you  have  tolera- 
bly well  studied  the  poetics  of  Aristotle  and  Horace, 
and  that  you  have  written  your  piece  according  to  the. 
principles  of  tragedy.  You  do  not  seem  to  be  aware 
that  a  musical  drama  is  an  imperfect  work,  subject  to 
rules  and  customs  destitute  of  common  sense,  I  am 
willing  to  allow,  but  which  still  require  to  be  literally 
followed.  Were  you  in  France,  you  might  take  more 
pains  to  please  the  publie  :  but  here  you  must  begin  by 
pleasing  the  actors  and  actresses  ;  you  must  satisfy  the 
musical  composer:  you  must  consult  the  scene-painter: 
every  department  has  its  rules,  and  it  would  be  treason 
against  the  drama  to  dare  to  infringe  on  them,  or  to 
fail  in  their  observance. 

'•  Listen."  lie  continued,  "I  shall  point  out  to  you 
a  few  of  those  rules  which  are  immutable,  and  with 
which  you  do  not  seem  to  be  acquainted.  The  three 
principal  personages  of  the  drama  ought  to  sing  five 
airs  each  :  two  in  the  first  act,  two  in  the  second,  and 
one  in  the  third.  The  second  actress  and  the  second 
soprano  can  only  have  three,  and  the  inferior  characters 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  155 

must  he  satisfied  with  a  single  air  each,  or  two  at  the 
most  The  author  of  the  words  must  furnish  the  musi- 
cian with  the  different  shades  which  form  the  chiaro- 
scuro of  music,  and  take  care  that  two  pathetic  airs  do 
not  succeed  each  other.  He  must  distribute  with  the 
same  precaution  the  bravura  airs,  the  airs  of  action,  the 
inferior  airs,  and  the  minuets  and  rondeaus. 

"He  must,  above  all  things,  avoid  giving  impassioned 
airs,  bravura  airs,  or  rondeaus,  to  inferior  characters  ; 
those  poor  devils  must  be  satisfied  with  what  they  get, 
and  every  opportunity  of  distinguishing  themselves  is 
denied  them." 

M.  Prata  would  have  gone  on;  but  I  interrupted 
him.  "  You  have  told  me  enough,  sir/'  said  I  to  him, 
li  do  not  take  the  trouble  of  enlarging  farther  on  the 
subject.  I  again  returned  him  my  thanks,  and  took  my 
leave.  I  perceived  at  last  that  my  judges  at  Brescia 
were  in  the  right,  and  that  Count  Trissino  of  Vicenza 
was  still  more  in  the  right,  and  that  I  alone  was  wrong. 
On  returning  to  my  lodgings,  I  felt  one  moment  hot  and 
the  next  cold;  I  was  quite  crestfallen.  I  drew  my 
piece  from  my  pocket,  and  at  sight  of  it  I  felt  half 
inclined  to  tear  it  to  pieces.  The  waiter  of  the  inn 
entered,  and  inquired  what  I  wished  for  supper.  "I 
shall  not  sup,"  I  answered,  "but  make  up  a  good  lire." 
I  still  had  my  Amalasonte  in  my  hands  ;  I  kept  read- 
ing a  few  of  the  verses,  which  I  thought  charming. 
"Accursed  rules!  My  piece  is  good,  I  am  certain  of  it; 
but  the  theatre  is  bad,  and  the  actors,  actresses,  com- 
posers,  decorators  —  may  tl:e  devil  take  them  all  !  And 
thou,  unfortunate  production,  which  hast  cost  me  so 
much  labor,  and  deceived  my  hopes  and  expectations, 
I  consign  thee  to  the  devouring  flames  !  "  On  this  I 
threw  it  into  the  lire,  and  looked  upon  it  while  burn- 


15G  MEMOIRS    OF 

iug,  with  a  sort  of  cool  complacency.  My  chagrin  and 
indignation  required  some  vent:  I  turned  my  vengeance 
against  myself,  and  then  I  deemed  myself  sufficiently 
revenged.  All  was  over,  and  the  piece  entirely  out  of 
my  head  :  but  on  stirring  up  the  ashes  with  the  tongs, 
and  collecting  the  remains  of  my  manuscript  to  com- 
plete the  work  of  destruction.  I  began  to  reflect  that  on 
no  occasion  had  I  sacrificed  my  supper  to  my  chagrin. 
I  called  the  waiter,  and  ordered  him  to  cover  the  table 
instantly.  I  had  not  long  to  wait  ;  I  ate  heartily,  and 
drank  still  more  so;  I  then  went  tu  bed,  and  enjoyed  a 
profound  sleep. 

The  only  thing  extraordinary  was,  that  I  awoke  next 
morning  two  hours  sooner  than  usual.  Unpleasant 
remembrances  now  began  to  influence  my  mind. 
"Come,  come,"  said  I  to  myself,  "no  ill-humor; 
pluck  up  courage,  and  call  on  the  Resident  of  Venice." 
He  had  invited  me  to  dinner  ;  and,  that  I  might  have  a 
private  interview  with  him,  it  was  requisite  that  I 
should  visit  him  instantly.  I  accordingly  dressed  my- 
self and  set  out.  The  minister,  seeing  me  at  nine 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  suspected  that  something  par- 
ticular had  urged  my  visit.  He  received  me  in  his 
dressing-room.  I  gave  him  to  understand  that  I  wished 
to  speak  to  him  privately,  and  he  gave  orders  for  his 
servants  to  leave  us-  I  related  to  him  what  had  hap- 
pened the  preceding  day.  I  gave  him  a  description  of 
the  disagreeable  conversation  which  had  so  much 
shocked  me  ;  communicated  the  opinion  of  Count 
Prata  to  him  ;  and  I  concluded  with  observing  that  I 
was  the  most  embarrassed  man  in  the  world. 

M.  Bartoliui  was  much  amused  with  the  account  of 
the  comic  scene  of  the  three  heroic  actors,  and  asked 
me  to  allow  him  to  read  my  opera.     u  My  opera,  sir  ? 


CARLO   GOLDONL  157 

It  is  no  longer  in  existence."  "  What  have  you  done 
with  it .'  "  "  I  have  burnt  it  !  "  "  Y< m  have  burnt  it  \  " 
"Yes,  sir,  I  have  burned  my  whole  stock,  my  sole 
property,  all  my  resources  and  my  hopes."  The  minis- 
ter laughed  still  more  heartily  at  this,  and  after  laugh- 
iug  and  taU»"g  for  some  time,  the  result  was  that  I  took 
up  my  residence  with  him  ;  that  he  received  me  in  the 
character  of  gentleman  of  his  chamber,  gave  me  a  very 
pretty  apartment  ;  and,  notwithstanding  my  disappoint- 
ment, I  found,  taking  everything  into  consideration, 
that  I  was  rather  a  gainer  than  a  loser. 

My  employment  was  confined  to  agreeable  commis- 
sions, such  as  complimenting  noble  Venetians  on  their 
travels,  or  waiting  upon  the  governor  or  magistrates 
of  Milan  in  the  business  of  the  republic.  These  occa- 
sions were  by  no  means  frequent,  and  I  had  all  my  lei- 
sure at  my  disposal,  for  my  amusement  or  otherwise  as 
I  might  think  proper. 

There  came  to  this  town,  in  the  beginning  of  Lent,  a 
mountebank  of  a  singular  description,  whose  name  de- 
serves a  place  perhaps  in  the  annals  of  the  age.  His 
name  was  Bonafede  Vitali  ;  he  was  a  native  of  Parma, 
and  he  styled  himself  the  Anonymous.  He  was  of  a 
good  family,  had  received  an  excellent  education,  and 
had  been  a  Jesuit.  Disgusted  with  the  cloister,  he 
a] tplicd  to  the  study  of  medicine,  and  succeeded  in  ob- 
taining a  professor's  chair  in  the  University  of  Palermo. 
This  singular  man,  to  whom  no  branch  of  science  was 
unknown,  possessed  an  inordinate  ambition  to  display 
the  extent  of  his  knowledge  :  and,  as  he  was  a  better 
orator  than  a  writer,  he  quitted  the  honorable  situation 
which  he  occupied,  for  the  purpose  of  mounting  the 
stage  and  haranguing  the  public;  but  as  he  was  not 
rich  enough  to  be  satisfied  with  mere  glory,  he  turned 


1Ô8  MEMOIRS    OF 

his  talents  to  account  by  vending  his  medicines.  This 
was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  playing  the  mounte- 
bank ;  but  his  specific  remedies  were  good,  and  his  sci- 
ence and  eloquence  procured  for  him  a  reputation  and 
a  degree  of  consideration  by  no  means  common.  He 
resolved  publicly  all  the  most  difficult  questions  which 
were  proposed  to  him  in  every  science  and  on  the  most 
abstruse  subjects.  Problems,  points  of  criticism,  his- 
tory, and  literature,  were  handed  up  to  him  on  his  em- 
pirical stage,  and  he  returned  an  immediate  answer, 
and  gave  very  satisfactory  dissertations.  He  appeared 
some  years  afterwards  at  Venice.  He  was  sent  for  to 
Verona  ou  account  of  an  epidemical  disease,  which  cut 
off  all  who  were  attacked  by  it.  His  arrival  in  that 
town  resembled  the  appearance  of  Esculapius  in  Greece; 
he  cured  everybody  with  a  particular  sort  of  apple 
(pommes  d'api),  and  Cyprus  wine.  In  gratitude  for 
this,  he  was  named  first  physician  of  Verona  ;  but  he 
did  not  enjoy  that  dignity  long,  having  died  the  same 
year,  regretted  by  everybody  excepting  the  physicians. 
When  at  Milan,  the  Anonymous  had  the  satisfaction 
of  seeing  the  place  where  he  exhibited  always  filled 
with  crowds  of  people  on  foot  and  in  carriages  ;  but 
as  the  learned  were  far  from  being  the  best  pur- 
chasers, he  was  obliged  to  furnish  his  scaffold  with  ob- 
jects calculated  to  attract  and  entertain  the  ignorant 
multitude,  and  the  new  Hippocrates  vended  his  drugs 
and  displayed  his  rhetoric,  surrounded  with  the- four 
masks  of  the  Italian  comedy.  M.  Bonafede  Vitali  had 
als<  «  a  passu  »n  for  comedy,  and  kept  up  at  his  own  ex- 
pense a  complete  company  of  comedians,  who,  after 
assisting  their  master  in  receiving  the  money  thrown 
up  in  handkerchiefs,  and  returning  the  same  handker- 
chiefs  filled   with    small   pots   or  boxes,  represented 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  159 

pieces  in  three  acts,  with  the  help  of  torches  of  white 
wax,  in  a  style  which  might  be  called  magnificent.  I 
wished  to  become  acquainted  with  the  Anonymous,  as 
much  on  account  of  the  extraordinary  man  himself,  as 
for  the  sake  of  his  assistance.  I  called  on  him  one 
day.  under  the  pretext  of  purchasing  his  antidote.  He 
interrogated  me  respecting  the  disease  which  I  had,  or 
which  I  believed  myself  to  have  ;  and  he  soon  per- 
ceived that  it  was  mere  curiosity  which  brought  me  to 
his  house.  He  gave  orders  to  bring  me  a  good  cup  of 
chocolate,  which,  lie  said,  was  the  most  suitable  medi- 
cine for  my  disease.  I  was  delighted  with  this  piece 
of  politeness.  We  conversed  together  for  some  time, 
and  I  found  him  as  amiable  in  private  as  he  was 
learned  in  public.  In  the  course  of  our  conversation 
I  informed  him  that  I  was  attached  to  the  Resident  of 
Venice.  It  occurred  to  him  that  I  might  be  able  to 
assist  him  in  a  certain  project,  which  he  communicated 
to  me.  I  undertook  to  serve  him,  and  I  was  fortunate 
enough  to  succeed.  The  affair  was  this  :  (but  do  not, 
my  dear  reader,  let  this  digression  disgust  you,  for  you 
will  soon  perceive  how  necessary  it  is  for  the  connec- 
tion of  my  story.) 

The  theatres  of  Milan  were  closed  during  Lent,  as  is 
usual  throughout  Italy.  The  theatre  for  the  represen- 
tation of  comedy  was  to  have  opened  at  Easter,  and  an 
engagement  for  that  purpose  had  been  entered  into  with 
one  of  the  best  theatrical  companies  ;  but  the  director, 
having  received  an  invitation  into  Germany,  set  out 
without  giving  the  slightest  notice,  and  left  the  Milan- 
ese quite  unprovided.  The  town,  being  then  without 
entertainments,  proposed  to  send  to  Venice  and  Bo- 
logna to  raise  a  company.  The  Anonymous  was 
desirous  that  the  preference  should  be  given  to  his, 


160  MEMOIRS   OF 

which  certainly  was  not  excellent,  but-  which,  never- 
theless, contained  three  or  four  individuals  of  merit,  and 
which,  on  the  whole,  was  very  well  arranged.  In  fact, 
M.  Casali,  who  acted  the  principal  lovers,  and  M. 
Euhini,  who  was  an  admirable  pantaloon,  were  both 
called  the  following  year  to  Venice,  the  first  for  the 
theatre  of  St.  Samuel,  and  the  other  for  that  of  St. 
Luke.  I  willingly  accepted  of  a  commission,  which 
promised  every  way  to  be  agreeable  to  me.  I  imparted 
it  to  the  minister,  who  undertook  to  speak  to  the  prin- 
cipal ladies  of  that  city.  I  myself  mentioned  the  busi- 
ness to  Count  Prata,  whose  acquaintance  I  continued  to 
cultivate  ;  I  employed  my  own  credit,  and  that  of  the 
Resident  of  Venice,  with  the  governor  ;  and  in  three 
days'  time  the  contract  was  signed,  and  the  Anonymous 
satisfied  ;  and  I  had,  by  way  of  recompense,  a  second 
box  in  front,  large  enough  to  contain  ten  persons. 
Availing  myself  of  this  company,  with  which  I  was 
on  an  intimate  footing,  I  resumed  the  composition  of 
some  theatrical  trifles.  I  should  not  have  had  suffi- 
cient time  for  a  comedy,  as  the  arrangement  with  the 
Anonymous  was  merely  for  the  spring  and  summer,  to 
the  month  of  September  ;  and  as  there  was  a  musical 
composer,  and  a  male  and  female  who  sang  pretty  well 
in  the  company,  I  composed  an  interlude  for  two 
voices,  under  the  title  of  the  "  Venetian  Gondolier," 
which  was  executed  with  all  the  success  that  such  a  spe- 
cies of  composition  ought  to  have.  This  is  the  first 
comic  production  of  mine  which  appeared  in  public  and 
afterwards  in  print  :  for  it  was  published  in  the  fourth 
volume  or  the  Venetian  edition  of  my  comic  operas  by 
Pasquali. 

Whilst  they  were  acting  my  Venetian  Gondolier  at 
Milan,  together  with  sketches  or  outlines  of  comedies, 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  161 

the  first  representation  of  Belisarins  was  given  out, 
and  it  was  continually  announced  during  six  days  to 
excite  the  public  curiosity  and  secure  a  full  house.  In 
this  the  comedians  were  not  deceived.  The  theatre  of 
Milan  at  that  time,  afterwards  burnt  down, — the  almost 
universal  destiny  of  theatres,  — was  the  largest  in  Italy 
next  to  that  of  Naples  ;  and  on  the  first  representation  of 
Belisarius,  the  crowd  was  so  great  that  the  passages 
even  were  choked  up.  But  what  a  detestable  piece  ! 
Justinian  was  imbecile,  Theodora  a  courtesan,  and 
Belisarius  a  long-winded  divine.  He  appeared  on  the 
stage  deprived  of  his  eyes  ;  Harlequin  was  his  guide, 
and  drove  him  along  with  a  cudgel.  Everybody  was 
shocked,  and  no  one  more  so  than  myself,  having  dis- 
tributed a  number  of  tickets  t  i  persons  of  the  first  merit. 
Next  day  I  called  on  Casali,  who  fell  a  laughing 
when  he  saw  me,  and  said  in  a  bantering  tone,  "  Very 
well,  sir  ;  what  do  you  think  of  our  famous  Beli- 
sarius !  "  "  I  think,"  said  I,  "  that  it  is  such  a  piece 
of  indignity  to  the  public  as  I  could  hardly  have  ex- 
pected.7' "  Alas,  sir,"  he  replied,  "  you  know  but 
little  of  actors.  There  is  not  a  company  which  does 
not  occasionally  fall  upon  similar  tricks  to  gain  money; 
and  this  in  the  theatrical  jargon  is  called  una  arrostita 
(roasting).  "  What  do  you  mean  by  arrostita  f  "  said 
I.  "  It  means,"  he  answered,  "in  good  Tuscan,  una 
corbeUatura;  in  the  Lombard  dialect  una  minchionada ; 
and  in  French  une  attrape  (a  trick).  The  actors  are 
in  the  habit  of  availing  themselves  of  it,  and  the  pub- 
lic is  accustomed  to  suffer  it  ;  all  are  not  equally  deli- 
cate, and  the  arrostitas  will  be  continued  till  they  are 
suppressed  by  a  reform."  "  I  entreat  of  yon,  M.  Casali," 
said  I,  "  not  to  roast  ine  a  second  time;  and  I  advise 
you  to  burn  your  Belisarius,  for  there  never  was  any- 
thing, I  believe,  more  detestable." 


162  MEMOIRS   OF 

"You  are  in  the  right,"  said  he;  "but  I  am  per- 
suaded that  a  good  piece  might  be  made  of  this  bad 
one."     "  Undoubtedly,"  I  observed;  "for  the  history 

of  Belisarius  may  furnish  the  subject  of  au  excellent 
piece."  "Well,  sir,"  replied  Casali,  "as  you  are  de- 
sirous of  laboring  for  the  theatre,  you  caunot  do  bet- 
ter than  begin  with  this."  "  Xo,"  said  I,  "I  will 
begin  with  a  tragedy."  "  Make  a  tragi-coinedy  of  it." 
"Not  in  the  taste  of  yours."  "  Let  there  be  no 
masks  nor  buffoonery."  "  I  shall  see  what  I  can  do." 
"  Stop  a  moment,  here  is  Belisarius."  "  I  don't  want 
it  :  I  shall  take  history  for  my  guide."  "  So  much  the 
better  ;  I  recommend  my  friend  Justinian  to  you."  "  I 
shall  do  the  best  I  can."  "  I  am  not  rich,  but  I  shall 
endeavor  —  "  "  Nonsense."  "  I  write  for  my  amuse- 
ment." "  I  must  impart  a  secret  to  you,  sir.  I  am 
going  next  year  to  Venice,  and  if  I  could  only  carry  a 
Belisarius  along  with  me,  — a  magnificent  Belisarius 
(infiochi)."  "You  shall  have  it  perhaps.  "But  you 
must  promise  me."  "Well,  I  do  promise."  "On  your 
honor  f  "  "  On  my  honor."  With  this,  Casali  was 
satisfied  ;  and  I  quitted  him  and  returned  home,  de- 
termined to  keep  my  word  with  him  carefully  and 
religiously. 

The  resident,  knowing  that  I  was  returned,  sent  for 
me  for  the  purpose  of  informing  me  that  he  was  on  the 
point  of  setting  out  for  Venice  on  particular  business, 
having-  received  permission  from  the  senate  to  absent 
himself  from  Milan  for  some  days.  He  had  a  Milanese 
secretary:  but  they  were  not  on  good  tenus  with  each 
other.  The  secretary  was  somewhat  too  fastidious, 
and  the  minister  was  subject  to  very  violent  sallies  of 
passion.  He  honored  me  with  several  commissions, 
and  as  there  was  reason  to  apprehend  from  the  rumors 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  163 

which  were  in  circulation  that  Lombardy  was  on  the 
point  of  being  implicated  in  a  war.  he  charged  me, 

amollir  other  things,  to  write  to  him  every  day.  and  to 
be  an  attentive  observer  of  everything  which  should 
take  place.  This  was  encroaching  on  the  duties  of  the 
secretary;  but  I  could  not  refuse,  and  it  would  have 
been  in  vain  to  argne  the  point  with  the  minister.  I 
did  not  fail  to  execute  the  commissions  intrusted  to 
me  :  hut  I  endeavored,  at  the  same  time,  J,o  undertake 
the  work  which  I  promised  to  execute  on  my  word  of 
honor. 

In  a  few  days  I  completed  the  first  act.  I  com- 
municated it  to  If.  Casali,  who  was  enchanted  with  it, 
and  wished  to  copy  it  instantly:  bnt  two  events  took 
place  at  the  same  time,  the  first  of  which  retarded  toy 
progress  in  the  work,  and  the  other  prevented  me  from 
working  for  a  long  time. 

XI. 

Early  one  morning  my  servant  burst  into  my  room 
and  drew  aside  the  curtain.  On  seeing  me  awake,  he 
exclaimed,  "Ah,  sir!  I  have  great  news  to  tell  you: 
fifteen  thousand  Savoyards,  horse  and  toot,  have  taken 
possession  of  the  city,  and  are  drawn  up  in  the  square 
of  the  cathedral."  Astonished  at  this  piece  of  unex- 
pected news,  I  put  a  hundred  questions  to  my  lackey. 
who  knew  nothing  more  than  what  he  had  already  told 
me.  I  dressed  myself  with  all  possible  expedition,  and 
repaired  to  the  coffee-house,  where  ten  people  en- 
deavored to  speak  at  once  to  me.  All  were  anxious  to 
he  the  first  to  inform  me;  and  I  had  many  different 
accounts,  but  the  following  is  actually  what  took  place. 
We  were  in  the  commencement  of  the  war  of  1733. 


164  MEMOIRS   OF 

called  the  war  of  Don  Carlos.  The  King  of  Sardinia, 
having  declared  himself  for  that  prince,  had  united  his 
forces  with  those  of  France  and  Spain  against  the 
house  of  Austria.  The  Savoyards,  having  marched 
all  night,  arrived  by  break  of  day  at  the  gates  of  Milan. 
The  general  demanded  the  keys  of  the  town,  and,  Milan 
being  too  large  for  a  defence,  the  keys  were  accordingly 
delivered  over  to  him.  Without  inquiring  farther  into 
the  matter,  I  deemed  myself  sufficiently  instructed  to 
communicate  the  event  to  the  resident.  I  returned 
and  wrote  an  account  of  it,  which  I  sent  off  express  to 
Venice,  and  three  days  afterwards  the  Venetian  minister 
returned  to  Milan. 

In  the  mean  time  the  French  troops  soon  made  their 
appearance,  and  joined  their  allies  the  Sardinians, 
and  they  formed  together  that  large  army  which  was 
called  by  the  Italians  Tarmata  dei  Gallo-Sardi.  The 
allies  prepared  for  laying  siege  to  the  castle  of  Milan, 
and  they  made  approaches  for  the  purpose  of  battering 
the  citadel,  which  obliged  the  inhabitants  of  the  parade 
to  shift  their  quarters.  The  besieging  army  soon  began 
to  open  their  trenches  and  to  construct  their  covered 
ways  :  the  siege  proceeded  rapidly  ;  the  batteries  kept 
firing  night  and  day,  and  the  guns  of  the  citadel  an- 
swered those  of  the  besiegers.  The  bombs  now  and 
then  improperly  directed  paid  us  a  visit  in  the  town. 

A  few  days  afterwards  my  minister  received  a  ducal 
letter  in  parchment,  and  sealed  with  lead,  from  a  courier 
of  the  republic  of  Venice,  directing  him  to  leave  Milan 
and  take  up  his  residence  at  Crema  during  the  war. 
This  information  the  resident  immediately  communi- 
cated to  me.  He  took  this  opportunity  to  get  rid  of 
his  secretary,  whom  he  disliked,  and  he  conferred  this 
honorable  and  lucrative  situation  on  me,  and  ordered 
me  to  hold  myself  in  readiness  to  set  out  next  day. 


CARLO    GOLDONI.  165 

Crama  is  a  town  belonging  to  the  republic  of  Venice, 
and  is  governed  by  a  noble  Venetian  with  the  title  of 
podestà.  It  lies  forty-eight  leagues  from  the  capital 
and  nine  from  the  city  of  Milan.  The  Resident  of  Ven- 
ice was  enabled  in  this  town  to  have  an  eye  over  every- 
thing that  was  taking  place,  and  to  watch  the  designs  of 
the  belligerent  powers  without  committing  the  republie, 
which  was  neuter,  and  which  could  not  acknowledge  the 
new  masters  of  the  Milanese.  But  this  "minister  was 
not  the  only  person  similarly  employed;  for  a  senator 
had  been  despatched  from  Venice  to  Crema  at  the  same 
time,  with  the  title  of  extraordinary  proveditorj  and 
both  exerted  themselves  to  the  utmost  of  their  power 
in  keeping  "up  correspondences  and  transmitting  the 
most  recent  and  certain  information  to  the  senate. 

We  received  every  day  at  least  ten,  twelve,  and  even 
sometimes  so  many  as  twenty  letters  from  Milan,  Turin, 
Brescia,  and  every  part  of  the  country,  through  which 
troops  were  to  pass  or  where  forage  or  stores  were  de- 
manded. It  was  my  business  to  open  them,  compare 
them,  make  extracts  from  them,  and  then  to  project  a 
despatch  agreeably  to  the  most  uniform  and  most  satis- 
factory accounts.  The  minister,  guided  by  my  labors, 
made  his  selections  accordingly,  and  afterwards  pro- 
ceeded to  make  his  remarks  and  reflections,  and  we 
sometimes  despatched  four  messengers  in  the  course  of 
one  day  to  the  capital.  This  exercise  gave  me,  no 
doubt,  a  great  deal  of  employment,  but  I  was  infinitely 
amused  by  it.  I  became  in  this  manner  initiated  into 
the  knowledge  of  politics  and  diplomacy,  from  which  I 
derived  very  great  advantage  when  I  was  named  four 
years  afterwards  Genoese  consul  at  Venice. 

After  a  siege  of  twenty  days,  during  four  of  which 
there  was  a  practicable  breach,  the  castle  of  Milan  was 


166  MEMOIRS    OF 

under  the  necessity  of  capitulating,  having  demanded 
and  obtained  all  the  honors  of  war,  drums  beating,  col- 
ors flying,  and  covered  wagons  to  Mantua,  which  was 
the  general  rendezvous  of  the  Germans,  who  were  not 
yet  sufficiently  strong  to  oppose  the  progress  of  their 
enemies.  The  combined  armies,  profiting  by  this  fa- 
vorable conjuncture,  laid  siege  a  few  days  afterwards  to 
Pizzighetone,  a  small  frontier  town  iu  the  Cremonese, 
at  the  confluence  of  the  Serio  and  Ada,  very  well  forti- 
fied and  possessing  a  very  considerable  citadel.  The 
theatre  of  war  advancing  nearer  and  nearer  to  Crema, 
we  were  the  better  enabled  to  procure  news,  as  we 
could  distinctly  hear  the  discharge  of  the  guns;  but 
hostilities  did  not  proceed  much  farther,  for  the  Ger- 
mans, who  were  in  expectation  of  orders  from  A'ienna 
or  Mantua,  demanded  an  armistice  of  three  days,  which 
was  readily  granted  to  them. 

On  this  occasion  I  was  sent,  in  the  quality  of  an  hon- 
orable spy,  to  the  camp  of  the  allies.  It  is  impossible 
to  draw  with  accuracy  such  a  picture  as  a  camp  pre- 
sents during  an  armistice;  the  most  brilliant  festivity 
prevails,  and  altogether  it  exhibits  the  most  astonishing 
spectacle  which  it  is  possible  to  imagine.  A  bridge 
thrown  over  the  breach  afforded  a  communication  be- 
tween the  besiegers  and  the  besieged  :  tables  were 
spread  in  every  quarter,  and  the  officers  entertained  one 
another  by  turns  :  within  and  without,  under  tents  and 
arbors,  there  was  nothing  but  balls,  entertainments, 
and  concerts.  All  the  people  of  the  environs  flocked 
there  on  foot,  on  horseback,  and  in  carriages  :  provis- 
ions arrived  from  every  quarter  ;  abundance  was  seen 
in  a  moment,  and  there  was  no  want  of  stage  doctors 
and  tumblers.  It  was  a  charming  fair,  a  delightful 
rendezvous.     I  enjoyed  it  for  several  hours  every  day; 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  167 

and  on  the  third  I  saw  the  German  garrison  march  out 
with  the  same  honors  as  those  which  had  been  granted 
to  the  castle  of  Milan.  I  was  amused  to  see  French 
and  Piedmontese  soldiers  leaving  their  standards  and 
thrusting  themselves  in  the  midst  of  the  ranks  of  their 
countrymen,  and  thus  desert  with  impunity. 

In  the  evening  I  made  a  report  of  all  that  I  saw  or 
learned  to  the  minister;  and  I  ventured  to  assure  him, 
in  consequence  of  the  conversations  whk-h  I  had  had 
with  different  officers,  that  the  combined  armies  were 
to  encamp  in  the  duchies  of  Parma  and  Piacenza  for 
the  purpose  of  securing  them  from  the  incursions  which 
there  was  every  reason  to  apprehend  from  the  Germans. 
The  event  corresponded  with  the  information  ;  the  allies 
gradually  defiled  towards  the  Cremonese  and  established 
themselves  in  the  environs  of  Parma,  where  the  duchess- 
dowager,  at  the  head  of  the  regency,  governed  the  state. 
The  distance  of  the  troops  diminished  my  labor  very 
much,  and  afforded  me  leisure  to  apply  to  more  agree- 
able occupations.  I  resumed  my  Belisarius,  on  which 
I  employed  myself  with  great  assiduity  and  interest, 
and  I  never  quitted  it  till  it  was  finished,  and  till  I 
thought  I  had  every  reason  to  be  satisfied. 

In  the  mean  time  my  brother,  who  on  the  death  of 
M.  Visnoni  had  quitted  the  service  of  Venice,  and  re- 
paired to  Modena,  in  the  hopes  of  being  employed  by 
the  duke,  having  been  disappointed  in  this  expecta- 
tion, came  to  join  me  at  Crema.  I  received  him  in  a 
very  friendly  manner,  and  presented  him  to  the  resi- 
dent, from  whom  he  received  the  place  of  gentleman, 
formerly  occupied  by  myself.  But  if  the  one  was  hot 
and  impatient,  the  other  was  fiery  in  the  extreme  ;  and 
they  could  not  ajcree  together.  The  resident  gave  my 
brother  his  dismissal,  and  he  took  his  leave  in  very  bad 
humor. 


168  MEMOIRS    OF 

The  ill-conduct  of  my  brother  did  me  some  injury 
in  the  mind  of  the  minister,  who  never  afterwards  had 
the  same  kindness  or  friendship  for  me.  A  hypocriti- 
cal Dominican  contrived  to  worm  himself  into  his  con- 
fidence, and  when  I  was  not  in  the  way  he  wrote  to 
his  dictation.  All  this  had  a  tendency  to  disgust  me. 
My  superior  and  myself  were  now  two  "beings  discon- 
tented with  each  other,  and  the  following  adventure 
had  the  effect  «  >f  producing  a  total  rupture. 

One  day  when  I  was  in  my  chamber,  a  servant  en- 
tered with  the  information  that  I  was  wanted  by  the 
minister.  I  made  my  appearance  before  the  resident, 
who  gave  me  a  manuscript  to  copy.  It  was  the  man- 
ifesto of  the  King  of  Sardinia,  with  the  reasons  which 
induced  him  to  engage  in  the  French  cause.  This  pro- 
duction was  at  that  moment  of  some  value,  for  the 
original  was  still  in  the  press  at  Turin,  and  it  required 
to  be  copied  that  it  might  be  sent  off  to  Venice. 

The  minister  did  not  dine  nor  sup  at  home  that  day. 
He  ordered  me  to  bring  him  the  manuscript  and  copy 
next  morning  when  he  awoke.  The  paper  was  pretty 
voluminous  and  badly  written,  but  it  required  despatch. 
I  returned  to  my  room,  and  sat  down  instantly  to  work, 
and  labored  at  it  till  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  taking 
no  other  dinner  than  a  cup  of  chocolate.  On  finishing, 
I  locked  the  two  copies  in  my  desk,  and  repaired  to  the 
Stag  inn.  where  I  engaged  in  a  faro  party  with  four 
gentlemen,  none  of  whom  were  known  to  me.  I  punted 
and  won,  and  I  durst  not  therefore  go  away  first.  "We 
passed  the  whole  night  at  play.  When  I  looked  at 
my  watch,  I  found  it  was  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
I  was  still  a  winner,  but  I  could  not  remain  any  longer; 
and  I  therefore  made  my  excuses  to  the  company,  and 
took  my  leave  of  them. 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  169 

I  met  one  of  our  servants  a  few  steps  from  the  inn, 
by  whom  I  was  informed  that  I  had  been  sought  for 
by  order  of  the  resident  in  every  corner.  He  rose  at 
five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  asked  for  me;  and  on 
being  told  that  I  had  slept  out  all  night,  he  became 
quite  furious.  I  made  all  the  haste  I  could  home,  and 
entered  my  chamber,  from  which  I  took  the  two  papers, 
and  delivered  them  to  the  minister.  He  gave  me  a 
very  unpleasant  reception,  and  even  went  s<>  far  as  to 
suspect  me  of  having  communicated  the  King  of  Sar- 
dinia's manifest'»  to  the  extraordinary  proveditor  of  the 
republic  of  Venice.  This  imputation  hurt  and  dis- 
tressed me  very  much,  and,  contrary  to  my  usual  mode 
of  behavior,  I  gave  way  to  an  impulse  of  passion. 
The  minister  threatened  to  have  me  arrested.  I  quitted 
him,  and  sought  a  refuge  with  the  bishop  of  the  town, 
who  took  my  part,  and  undertook  to  make  op  matters 
with  the  resident.  I  thanked  him  for  his  kind  inten- 
tion ;  but  my  resolution  was  taken  to  depart  as  soon 
as  my  innocence  should  be  established.  The  resident 
had  time  to  make  inquiry  where  I  had  passed  the 
night,  and  his  opinion  of  me  underwent  a  change;  but 
I  was  unwilling  to  expose  myself  any  more  to  similar 
unpleasant  scenes,  and  I  asked  permission  to  give  up 
my  situation,  which  was  accordingly  granted.  I  called 
on  the  minister  for  the  purpose  of  excusing  myself,  and 
returning  him  my  thanks.  I  then  packed  up  the  dif- 
ferent articles  belonging  to  me,  hired  a  chaise  for 
ftfodena,  where  my  mother  still  remained,  and  set  out 
three  days  afterwards. 

On  arriving  at  Parma,  the  28th  of  June,  St.  Peter's 
Eve,  in  1733,  a  memorable  day  for  that  town,  I  went 
to  lodge  at  the  Osteria  del  Gallo.  I  was  awaked  next 
morning  by  a  dreadful  noise.     On  springing  out  of  bed, 


170  MEMOIRS    OF 

and  opening  my  room  window,  I  perceived  the  place 
full  of  people  running  in  all  directions,  and  rushing 
against  one  another.  There  was  nothing  but  weeping, 
crying,  and  distress  :  I  observed  women  carrying  their 
children  in  their  arms,  and  others  dragging  them  along 
the  ground  ;  men  loaded  with  hampers,  baskets,  trunks, 
and  packages;  old  men  unable  to  support  themselves; 
sick  persons  in  their  shirts;  carts  upturned  and  the 
horses  running  about  loose.  "What  is  the  meaning  of 
all  this,"  said  I  ;  "  is  it  the  end  of  the  world  ?  n 

I  wrapped  myself  in  my  great-coat  over  my  shirt, 
rushed  hastily  down  stairs  to  the  kitchen  ;  but  to  all 
my  demands  and  questions  I  could  receive  no  answer. 
The  innkeeper  was  packing  up  his  plate,  and  his  wife, 
with  her  hair  all  dishevelled,  held  a  box  of  jewels  in 
her  band  and  her  clothes  in  her  apron.  I  wished  to 
speak  to  her,  but  she  threw  me  against  the  door  and 
rushed  out.  "What  is  the  matter?  what  is  the  mat- 
ter?" I  asked  of  every  person  I  met.  At  length  I 
perceived  a  man  at  the  stable-door,  whom  I  recognized 
to  be  my  driver.  I  went  up  to  hirn;  and  he  was  able 
to  satisfy  my  curiosity. 

''The  whole  place  is  in  uproar,"  said  he,  uand  not 
without  reason  ;  for  the  Germans  are  at  the  gates  of 
the  town,  and  if  they  enter  it,  it  is  sure  to  be  pillaged. 
Every  one  is  taking  refuge  in  the  church,  and  con- 
fiding their  effects  to  the  protection  of  God."  "Will 
the  soldiers,"  said  I  to  him,  "have  time  for  reflection 
on  such  an  occasion  !  Besides,  are  all  the  Germans 
Catholics  ?  " 

While  I  was  thus  conversing  with  my  guide,  the 
scene  immediately  changed,  and  nothing  but  cries  of 
joy,  ringing  of  bells,  and  discharging  of  all  manner  of 
fireworks,  was  to  be  heard.     The  churches  were  im- 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  171 

mediately  empty,  the  property  was  earned  back  again, 
friends  were  inquiring  kindly  for  one  another  and  em- 
bracing in  an  affectionate  manner.  How  was  this 
change  brought  about  ?  The  affair  was  this  :  a  spy  in 
the  pay  of  both  the  allies  and  the  Germans  appeared 
the  night  before  in  the  camp  of  the  former  at  the 
village  of  St.  Peter,  a  league  distance  from  the  city, 
and  gave  information  that  a  detachment  of  the  Ger- 
man troops  were  to  forage  the  following  day  in  the 
environs  of  Parma  with  the  intention  of  surprising  the 
town.  The  Marshal  de  Coigny,  who  then  commanded 
the  army,  detached  the  two  regiments  of  Picardy  and 
Champagne  to  watch  the  enemy;  but  as  this  brave 
general  never  failed  in  precaution  or  vigilance,  he 
caused  the  spy  whom  he  distrusted  to  be  arrested,  and 
gave  orders  that  the  whole  camp  should  remain  under 
arms.  M.  de  Coigny  was  not  mistaken;  on  the  two 
regiments  arriving  within  sight  of  the  ramparts  of  the 
town,  they  discovered  the  German  army  to  the  num- 
ber of  forty  thousand,  under  Marshal  de  Mercy,  with, 
ten  field -pieces.  The  French,  who  were  advancing 
on  the  highway,  surrounded  with  large  ditches,  had 
no  means  of  retreat  :  they  advanced  boldly,  but  they 
were  nearly  all  cut  down  by  the  enemy's  artillery. 

This  was  the  signal  of  surprise  for  the  Freneh  com- 
mander. The  spy  was  instantly  hanged,  and  the  army 
began  its  march  with  the  utmost  expedition.  The 
road  was  confined  and  the  cavalry  could  not  advance  ; 
but  the  infantry  made  such  a  vigorous  charge  that 
the  enemy  were  forced  to  retreat,  and  it  was  then  that 
the  alarm  of  the  Parmesans  was  converted  into  joy. 
Everybody  ran  to  the  ramparts  of  the  town,  and  I 
ran  with  the  rest.  It  was  impossible  to  have  a  nearer 
view  of  a  battle  ;   the  smoke  frequently  prevented  us 


172  MEMOIRS   OF 

from  distinguishing  objects  ;  but  still  we  had  a  very 
rare  eoup-rVœil.  such  as  few  people  can  boast  of  hav- 
ing enjoyed.  A  continual  fire  was  kept  up  for  nine 
hours  without  interruption,  and  night  separated  the 
two  armies.  The  Germans  dispersed  themselves  among 
the  mountains  ofReggio,  and  the  allies  remained  mas- 
ters of  the  field  of  battle.  Next  day  I  saw  Marshal 
de  Mercy,  who  was  killed  in  the  heat  of  the  battle, 
brought  into  Parma  on  a  litter.  This  general  was 
embalmed  and  sent  to  Germany,  as  was  also  the  Prince 
of  Wurtemberg,  who  shared  the  same  fate. 

But  a  much  more  horrible  and  disgusting  spectacle 
was  seen  by  me  in  the  afternoon  of  the  following  day. 
This  was  the  dead  bodies  which  had  been  stripped 
during  the  night,  and  which  were  said  to  amount  to 
twenty-four  thousand.  They  were  lying  naked  in 
heaps;  and  limbs,  arms,  skulls,  and  blood  were  scat- 
tered in  all  directions.  What  a  carnage  !  The  Par- 
mesans dreaded  lest  the  air  should  be  infected  from 
the  difficulty  of  interring  such  a  number  of  massacred 
bodies  ;  but  the  republic  of  Venice,  whose  territories 
are  almost  contiguous  to  those  of  Parma,  and  which 
was  interested  in  the  preservation  of  the  purity  of  the 
air,  sent  an  abundance  of  lime,  that  all  these  car- 
cases might  speedily  disappear  from  the  surface  of  the 
earth. 

On  the  third  day  after  the  battle  I  was  desirous  of 
proceeding  to  Modena.  My  guide  observed  that  the 
roads  in  that  direction  were  all  impracticable,  on  ac- 
count of  the  continual  incursions  of  the  troops  of  the 
two  parties.  He  added  that  if  I  wished  to  go  to 
Milan,  to  which  place  he  belonged,  he  would  conduct 
me  there,  and  if  I  were  inclined  to  go  to  Brescia  he 
knew  one  of  his  comrades  who  was  on  the  point  of 


CAIÎLO    GOLDONI.  173 

setting  out  for  that  city  with  an  abbe,  whom  I  might 
accompany.     I  accepted  this  last  proposition.     Brescia 

was  the  more  suitable  place  of  the  two  for  me,  and  I 
set  out  next  day  with  the  Abbé  Garoffini,  a  very  well- 
informed  young  man,  who  was  a  great  lover  of  spec- 
tacles. "We  had  a  long  conversation  during  our  jour- 
ney ;  and,  as  I  had  the  disease  common  to  all  authors, 
I  took  care  to  mention  my  Belisarius.  The  abbé 
expressed  a  curiosity  to  hear  it  ;  and  arour  first  dining 
station  I  drew  my  piece  from  my  trunk  and  began  the 
reading.  I  had  not  finished  the  first  act  before  the 
driver  urged  us  to  proceed.  The  abbé  was  displeased, 
as  he  took  an  interest  in  the  piece.  "  Never  mind," 
said  I,  "I  can  read  in  the  carriage  as  well  as  here." 
We  resumed  our  seats  in  the  chaise,  and  as  the  drivers 
go  very  slowly,  I  continued  my  reading  without  the 
slightest  difficulty. 

While  we  were  both  occupied  in  this  manner,  the 
carriage  suddenly  stopped,  and  we  observed  five  men 
with  mustachios  and  a  military  uniform,  who  with 
drawn  swords  ordered  us  to  alight.  Could  we  hesi- 
tate to  obey  the  absolute  orders  of  these  gentlemen  ? 
I  alighted  at  one  side,  and  the  abbé  at  the  other.  One 
of  them  demanded  my  purse,  which  I  instantly  gave 
him;  another  took -my  watch  ;  a  third  rummaged  my 
pockets,  and  took  my  box,  which  was  only  shell:  the 
two  last  treated  the  abbé  in  the  same  manner:  and  the 
whole  five  fell  next  upon  our  trunks,  my  little  strong- 
box, and  our  bandies  of  night-clothes.  When  the 
driver  found  himself  at  liberty,  he  galloped  off  with 
his  horses,  and  I  took  to  flight  also.  I  sprang  over  a 
very  broad  ditch,  and  ran  across  the  fields,  fearing  that 
the  rascals  might  also  wish  to  take  my  great-coat,  my 
coat  and  breeches,  and  even  my  life  ;  and  I  esteemed 


174  MEMOIRS    OF 

myself  exceedingly  fortunate  in  escaping  with  the  loss 
of  my  money  and  effects,  and  in  haying  sayed  Belisa- 
rius  from  the  wreck. 

Haying  lost  sight  of  the  robbers,  and  not  knowing 
what  was  become  of  my  travelling  companion,  I  dis- 
covered an  avenue  of  trees,  and  I  lay  down  tranquilly 
"beside  a  stream.  I  allayed  my  thirst  with  the  water 
which  I  lifted  to  my  mouth  in  the  hollow  of  my  hand, 
and  the  water  tasted  delicious.  Feeling  myself  ex- 
hausted with  fatigue,  and  my  mind  haying  become 
more  calm,  and  not  seeing  any  person  to  whom  I  could 
apply,  I  took  by  chance  one  of  the  directions  of  the 
avenue,  which  I  was  persuaded  would  terminate  in 
some  inhabited  place.  I  soon  perceived  laborers  at 
work  in  the  field.  I  accosted  them  with  confidence, 
and  communicated  my  adventure  to  them,  of  which 
they  knew  something  already,  having  seen  the  knaves . 
who  stripped  us  proceed  along  a  cross  road  laden  like 
mules.  They  were  deserters,  who  attacked  passen- 
gers, and  did  not  even  spare  the  hamlets  and  farm- 
houses. Such  are  the  unfortunate  fruits  of  war,  which 
fall  indiscriminately  on  friends  and  foes,  and  distress 
the  innocent.  "  How,"  said  I,  "  can  these  robbers  get 
rid  of  the  effects  stolen  by  them  in  this  manner  with- 
out being  apprehended  ?  "  The  peasants  were  all 
anxious  to  answer  me,  and  their  eagerness  marked 
their  indignation.  At  a  short  distance  from  the  place 
where  we  then  were,  there  was  a  company  of  rich  in- 
dividuals established  and  tolerated  for  the  purpose  of 
purchasing  the  spoils  of  the  victims  of  war  ;  and  the 
purchasers  paid  no  attention  whether  the  effects  came 
from  the  field  of  battle  or  the  highway. 

The  sun  was  setting.      These  good  people  offered 
me  a  small  fragment  of  their  repast,  which,  notwith- 


CARLO  GOLDONL  175 

standing  my  disaster,  I  ate  with  considerable  appetite. 
They  invited  me  to  pass  the  night  with  them,  and  I 
was  disposed  to  accept  with  gratitude  the  hospitality 
of  those  kind  individuals,  when  a  respectable  old  man, 
the  father  and  grandfather  of  my  benefactors,  remarked 
to  me,  that  with  them  I  could  only  repose  on  straw 
and  hay,  and  that  it  would  be  better  to  allow  them  to 
conduct  me  to  Casal  Pasturlengo,  which  was  only  a 
league  distant,  and  where  the  parish"  priest,  a  very 
worthy  and  polite  man,  would  receive  and  lodge  me 
with  the  utmost  pleasure.  This  opinion  met  with 
general  applause.  A  young  man  undertook  to  conduct 
me.  I  followed  him,  proffering  thanks  to  Heaven, 
which,  while  it  tolerates  the  wicked,  excites  also  kind 
and  virtuous  hearts  to  relieve  their  fellow-creatures. 


XII. 

On  arriving  at  Casal  Pasturlengo,  I  desired  my  guide 
to  inform  the  clergyman  of  my  accident.  A  few  minutes 
afterwards  this  worthy  pastor  came  k>  the  door,  offered 
me  his  hand,  and  requested  me  to  walk  in.  Enchanted 
with  this  favorable  reception,  I  turned  towards  the 
young  man  by  whom  I  had  been  escorted,  and  in 
thanking  him,  I  testified  my  regret  at  my  inability  to 
recompense  him.  The  clergyman  perceived  my  em- 
barrassment, and  gave  a  few  pence  to  the  peasant,  who 
went  away  quite  satisfied.  This  is  a  trifle,  it  is  true  ; 
but  it  proves  the  way  of  thinking  of  a  just  and  com- 
passionate man. 

The  supper  is  taken  at  an  early  hour  in  the  country. 
That  of  the  clergyman  was  ready  when  I  arrived,  and 
I  made  no  ceremony,  but  gladly  shared  with  him  what 
had  been  prepared  by  his  governante.     Our  conversa- 


176  MEMOIRS    OF 

tion  turned  at  "first  on  the  war,  and  I  mentioned  what 
I  had  seen  at  Parma,  Milan,  and  Pizzighetone.  In- 
sensibly I  found  myself  engaged  in  some  details  re- 
specting my  employment  and  occupations  ;  and  my 
discourse  ended  as  usual  with  the  article  of  Belisarius. 
The  ecclesiastic,  who  was  a  very  wise  and  exemplary 
man,  did  not  condemn  decent  and  moral  plays,  and  he 
expressed  a  curiosity  to  hear  my  piece  ;  hut  I  was  then 
too  fatigued  to  begin  the  reading,  and  it  was  put  off 
till  next  day.  I  was  shown  to  a  delightful  bed,  where 
I  forgot  all  my  chagrins,  and  slept  till  ten  o'clock  the 
next  morning. 

As  soon  as  I  was  awake,  an  excellent  cup  of  choco- 
late was  brought  me.  As  the  weather  was  fine,  I 
walked  out  till  midday,  the  hour  of  dinner,  when  we 
saw  each  other  again  with  pleasure.  Two  other  ab- 
bes of  his  parish  dined  with  us,  and  after  dinner  I  be- 
gan the  reading  of  my  piece.  My  host  demanded  my 
permission  to  admit  his  governante  and  his  régisseur. 
For  my  part,  I  could  have  wished  the  whole  village 
present.  The  piece  was  very  much  relished.  The 
three  abbés,  who  were  by  no  means  blockheads,  dis- 
tinguished the  most  interesting  and  remarkable  pas- 
sages ;  and  the  villagers  proved  by  their  applause  that 
my  work  was  suited  to  every  capacity,  and  equally 
capable  of  pleasing  the  learned  and  the  ignorant. 

I  received  the  compliments  of  my  host,  who  thanked 
me  for  my  complaisance  ;  the  two  other  abbés  followed 
his  example,  and  each  of  them  gave  me  an  invitation 
to  dinner  ;  but  I  was  unwilling  to  occasion  any  incon- 
venience to  my  landlord,  and  I  was,  besides,  anxious 
to  continue  my  route.  The  clergyman  asked  me  in 
what  manner  I  intended  to  travel.  I  told  him  I  was 
very  well  disposed  to  set  out  on  foot  ;  but  this  worthy 


CARLO  GOLDONI.  177 

man  would  not  hear  of  such  a  thing.  He  gave  me  his 
horse  and  his  servant,  and  he  gave  the  servant  orders 
to  pay  for  my  dinner.  I  took  my  leave  next  day, 
overcome  with  the  favors  and  acts  of  kindness  I  had 
received. 

On  arriving  at  Desenzano,  ,1  dined  in  the  same  inn 
on  the  Lake  di  Garda,  where  I  had  twice  before  slept, 
and  I  arrived  at  Verona  at  nightfall. 

Verona  is  one  of  the  finest  cities  of  Italy.  It  de- 
serves, without  doubt,  that  I  should  speak  of  its  beau- 
ties, its  ornaments,  its  academies,  aud  the  talents  which 
it  has  produced  and  fostered  in  every  age  ;  but  this 
digression  would  lead  me  too  far;  and  I  shall  merely 
confine  myself  to  the  mention  of  the  monument  which 
has  some  relation,  perhaps,  to  the  subject  of  my  me- 
moirs. At  Verona  there  is  an  amphitheatre,  the  work 
of  the  Romans.  It  is  not  known  whether  it  belongs 
to  the  period  of  Trajan  or  Domitian  ;  but  it  is  in  such 
excellent  preservation,  that  it  may  be  used  at  present 
as  well  as  in  the  time  when  it  was  constructed.  This 
vast  edifice,  called  in  Italy  1' Arena  di  Verona,  is  of  an 
oval  form  ;  its  greatest  interior  diameter  is  two  hundred 
and  twenty-five  Paris  feet,  and  the  smallest  one  hun- 
dred and  thirty-three.  Forty-five  rows  of  marble  steps 
surround  it,  which  are  capable  of  containing  twenty 
thousand  persons  seated  at  their  ease.  In  the  central 
space  spectacles  of  all  kinds  are  given  :  courses,  jousts, 
bull-fights  ;  and  in  summer,  plays  are  even  represented 
with  no  other  light  than  that  of  the  natural  day.  For 
this  purpose,  in  the  middle  of  the  space,  there  is  erected, 
on  very  strong  supports,  a  theatre  in  boards,  which  is 
taken  down  every  winter  and  refitted  again  in  the  fine 
season;  and  the  best  companies  of  Italy  occasionally 
resort  here  to  display  their  talents.     There  are  no  boxes 


178  MEMOIRS   OF 

for  the  spectators  ;  a  space  inclosed  off  with  boards 
forms  a  vast  pit  with  chairs.  The  lower  orders  are 
allowed,  for  a  trilling  expense,  to  range  themselves 
along  the  steps  in  front  of  the  theatre  ;  and  notwith- 
standing the  small  expense  of  admission,  there  is  not 
a  theatre  in  Italy  that  yields  so  much  as  the  Arena. 

On  leaving  my  inn  the  day  after  my  arrival,  I  ob- 
served playbills,  in  which  I  read  that  "Harlequin 
Mute  through  Fear  "  was  to  be  acted  that  day.  I  went 
in  the  afternoon,  and  placed  myself  in  the  enclosure,  in 
the  middle  of  the  Arena,  where  there  was  a  very 
numerous  assembly.  The  curtain  was  drawn  ;  an 
apology  was  to  be  delivered  for  the  change  of  the  piece, 
which  was  not  the  "  Mute  through  Fear,"  as  had  been 
promised,  but  auother,  the  name  of  which  I  do  not  now 
remember.  But  what  an  agreeable  surprise  for  me  ! 
The  actor  who  came  forward  to  address  the  public  was 
no  other  than  my  dear  friend  Casali,  the  proposer  and 
proprietor  of  my  Belisarius. 

I  quitted  my  place  to  get  upon  the  stage.  As  the 
place  was  not  very  extensive,  my  intention  was  imme- 
diately opposed.  I  asked  for  Casali  ;  he  came  forward, 
and  appeared  quite  enchanted  to  see  me.  He  made 
way  for  me,  and  introduced  me  to  the  director,  the 
principal  actress,  the  second  and  third,  and  the  whole 
company.  All  were  eager  to  speak  to  me.  Casali 
took  me  apart  ;  we  went  behind  a  curtain  ;  the  deco- 
ration was  changed,  and  I  remained  exposed  to  the 
audience  ;  I  escaped  with  all  possible  expedition  from 
the  hisses  with  which  I  was  assailed.  This  was  rather 
an  unlucky  prelude  for  an  author;  but  the  Veronese 
have  sufficiently  indemnified  me  in  the  sequel  for  this 
little  disagreeable  incident.  The  company  was  the  one 
which  Casali  mentioned  to  me  at  Milan  ;  it  belonged  to 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  179 

the  Grimani  theatre  of  St.  Samuel,  in  Venice,  where 
it  played  every  autumn  and  winter,  passing  the  spring 
and  summer  on  the  mainland. 

The  company  was  under  the  direction  of  M.  Imer,  a 
very  polite  and  respectable  Genoese,  who  invited  me  to 
dine  with  him  next  day,  which  was  a  holiday  with 
them.  I  accepted  his  invitation,  and  promised  in 
return  to  read  him  my  Belisarius.  We  were  all  in 
unison,  and  satisfied  with  one  anothe'r.  Next  day  I 
repaired  accordingly  to  the  directors,  where  I  found  all 
the  company  assembled.  Imer  wished  to  treat  his 
companions  with  the  novelty  which  Casali  had  been 
mentioning  to  them.  The  dinner  was  splendid,  and 
the  gayety  of  the  comedians  quite  charming.  They 
made  couplets,  and  sang  bacchanalian  songs.  They 
anticipated  every  wish  of  mine  ;  they  were  so  many 
crimps  anxious  to  enlist  me. 

When  dinner  was  over,  we  retired  to  the  director's 
room,  where  I  read  my  piece.  It  was  listened  to  with 
attention,  and  at  the  conclusion  the  applause  was  gen- 
eral and  complete.  Imer  took  me  by  the  hand,  and 
with  a  magisterial  tone  pronounced,  "  Bravo  !  "  I  was 
complimented  by  every  one  ;  Casali  wept  for  joy. 
One  of  the  actors  asked  me  very  politely  if  his  com- 
rades were  to  have  the  good  fortune  of  being  the  first 
to  represent  my  piece.  Casali  rose,  and  in  a  decided 
tone,  answered:  "Yes,  sir,  M.  Goldoni  did  me  the 
honor  to  labor  for  me  "  ;  and,  laying  hold  of  the  piece 
which  was  lying  on  the  table,  "I  shall,"  said  he, 
4 'with  the  good  pleasure  of  the  author,  proceed  to  copy 
it  out  myself."  Without  waiting  the  author's  answer 
he  carried  it  off  instantly. 

Imer  took  me  apart,  and  requested  me  to  accept  of 
a  single  apartment  in  the  same  house  beside  his  own  ; 


180  MEMOIRS    OF 

he  invited  me  also  to  his  tahle  all  the  time  that  his 
company  should  remain  at  Verona.  In  my  circum- 
stances I  could  refuse  nothing.  Without  having  had 
the  advantage  of  a  regular  education,  Imer  possessed 
intellect  and  information  :  he  was  passionately  fond  of 
comedy  :  he  was  naturally  eloquent,  and  could  have 
supported  with  great  ease  the  part  of  an  extempore 
lover  according  to  the  Italian  practice,  had  his  height 
and  figure  corresponded  with  his  talents.  Being  short, 
squat,  with  a  short  neck  or  rather  with  none,  small 
eyes,  and  a  little  flat  nose,  he  appeared  ridiculous  iu 
serious  characters,  and  overcharged  characters  or  cari- 
catures were  not  in  fashion.  He  possessed  a  good 
voice  :  he  contrived  the  introduction  into  comedy  of 
musical  interludes,  which  had  so  long  been  inseparable 
from  the  grand  opera,  and  had  at  last  been  suppressed 
to  make  room  for  ballets. 

The  comic  opera  had  its  origin  at  Naples  and  Rome, 
but  it  was  unknown  in  Lombardy  and  the  Venetian 
dominions,  so  that  the  project  of  Imer  succeeded,  and 
the  novelty  was  productive  of  much  pleasure,  and 
highly  profitable  to  the  comedians.  He  had  two  ac- 
tresses in  this  company  for  interludes  ;  the  one  a  very 
pretty  and  a  very  able  widow  of  the  name  of  Zanetta 
Casanova,  who  played  the  part  of  young  lovers  in 
comedy  :  and  the  other  a  woman  possessed  of  a  charm- 
ing voice,  but  who  had  no  talents  for  acting.  This 
M'as  Madame  Agnese  Amurat,  the  same  singer  whom 
I  mentioned  as  employed  by  me  in  my  serenade  at 
Venice.  Neither  of  these  two  women  knew  a  single 
note  of  music,  and  Imer  was  precisely  in  the  same 
situation  ;  but  they  were  all  three  possessed  of  taste, 
a  correct  ear.  and  a  perfect  execution;  and  the  public 
were  satisfied  with  them. 


CARLO    GOLDOXL  181 

The  first  interlude  they  began  with  was  the  Can- 
tatrice, a  small  piece  composed  by  me  at  Feltre  for  a 
private  theatre:  and  I  had  thus  contributed  to  the 
advantage  of  the  Venice  company  without  knowing  it 
and  without  being  known.  No  wonder  then  that  I 
stood  high  in  the  opinion  of  the  director,  to  whom  I 
was  announced  by  Casali  as  the  author  of  the  Can- 
tatrice ;  and  this  was  the  true  cause  of  the  kindness 
with  which  I  was  treated  by  him  ;  for,  in  general,  we 
give  nothing  without  an  equivalent,  and  my  Belisa- 
rius  would  have  been  insufficient,  had  I  not  given  a 
proof  of  my  qualifications  for  dramatic  poetry. 

liner,  win»  possessed  judgment  and  penetration,  fore- 
saw that  my  Belisarius  would  everywhere  be  suc- 
cessful. This  he  was  not  displeased  at  ;  but  he  was 
at  the  same  time  desirous  that  his  person  and  his  new 
employment  should  participate  in  the  success  which 
he  anticipated.  He  requested  me,  therefore,  to  com- 
pose an  interlude  for  three  voices  with  all  possible  de- 
spatch, that  there  might  be  time  to  set  it  to  music.  I 
composed  an  interlude  in  three  acts,  which  I  called 
La  Pupilla.  I  took  the  plot  of  this  piece  from  the 
private  life  of  the  director;  I  perceived  that  he  had  a 
decided  inclination  for  the  widow  of  his  company:  I 
saw  also  that  he  was  jealous  of  her,  and  I  brought 
him  accordingly  into  the  piece.  liner  was  not  long  in 
perceiving  it,  but  the  interlude  appeared  to  him  so 
well  written,  and  the  attack  so  respectful  and  delicate, 
that  he  easily  pardoned  me  this  piece  of  pleasantry. 
He  overpowered  me  with  thanks  and  applause,  and 
instantly  despatched  my  work  to  Venice  to  the  musi- 
cian whom  he  had  already  engaged.  Meanwhile  Be- 
lisarius had  been  copied,  and  the  parts  distributed. 
A  few  days  afterwards  the  first  rehearsal  took  place 


182  MEMOIRS    OF 

with  the  parts  in  their  hands;  and  the  piece  produced 
a  still  greater  impression  at  the  second  reading  than  at 
the  first 

Casali,  more  and  more  satisfied  with  me,  after  as- 
suring me  that  the  director  and  proprietor  of  the 
theatre  would  take  care  to  recompense  me,  requested 
me  to  do  him  the  favor  to  receive,  as  a  particular  mark 
of  his  gratitude,  a  present  of  six  sequins. 

I  remained  tranquilly  at  Verona  till  the  end  of  Sep- 
tember. At  last  I  set  out  with  liner  for  Venice  in  a 
postchaise,  and  we  arrived  there  at  eight  o'clock  in 
the  evening  of  the  same  day.  Imer  conducted  me 
into  his  house,  showed  me  the  room  which  he  destined 
for  me,  introduced  me  to  his  wife  and  his  daughters, 
and  as  I  had  a  strong  desire  to  see  my  maternal  aunt, 
I  requested  him  to  dispense  with  my  supping  with  his 
family.     I  was  very  desirous  of  obtaining  information 

respecting    Madame    St. and   her   daughter,  and 

learning  whether  they  still  entertained  any  pretensions 
to  me.  My  aunt  assured  me  that  I  might  keep  my- 
self perfectly  tranquil  :  that  these  high-minded  ladies, 
on  hearing  that  I  had  entered  into  an  engagement 
with  comedians,  had  set  me  down  as  unworthy  to 
approach  them,  and  entertained  no  other  sentiments 
for  me  hut  those  of  contempt  and  indignation.  "So 
much  the  better,"  said  I,  —  "  so  much  the  better  ;  this 
is  still  another  advantage  which  I  shall  owe  to  my 
talents.  With  the  comedians  I  am  like  an  artist  in 
his  workshop.  They  are  worthy  people,  much  more 
estimable  than  the  slaves  of  pride  and  ambition.7'  I 
next  spoke  of  my  family  affairs.  My  mother,  who 
was  still  at  Modena,  was  in  good  health,  and  my  debts 
were  almost  wholly  paid  off.  I  supped  with  my  aunt 
and   mv   relations.     After   taking   leave   of    them   to 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  183 

return  to  my  host,  I  chose  the  longest  road,  and  went 
round  by  the  bridge  of  the  Rialto  and  the  square  of 
St.  Mark;  and  I  enjoyed  the  charming  spectacle  of  a 
city  still  more  wonderful  by  night  than  by  day. 

I  had  not  yet  seen  Paris,  but  I  had  returned  from 
several  towns  where  at  night  everything  was  total 
darkness.  It  appeared  to  me  that  the  lamps  of  Venice 
formed  a  decoration  both  useful  and  agreeable,  and  the 
more  deserving  of  praise,  as  the  burden  does  not  fall 
on  individuals,  but  is  defrayed  by  an  additional  draw- 
ing of  the  lottery  every  year.  Besides  this  general 
illumination,  there  is  that  of  the  shops,  which  at  all 
seasons  remain  open  till  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening, 
and  a  great  number  are  not  shut  till  midnight,  and 
several  are  never  shut  at  all. 

Everything  eatable  is  to  be  found  displayed  at  mid- 
night in  Venice,  the  same  as  in  the  middle  of  the  day  : 
all  the  taverns  are  open,  and  suppers  are  in  prepara- 
tion in  every  inn  and  hotel  ;  for  company  dinners  and 
suppers  are  not  common  in  Venice,  but  parties  of 
pleasure  and  picnics  bring  together  individuals  with 
greater  liberty  and  gayety.  In  summer  the  square  of 
St.  Mark  and  its  environs  are  frequented  by  night  as 
much  as  by  day.  The  coffee-houses  are  full  of  fash- 
ionable company,  males  and  females  of  every  descrip- 
tion. In  every  square,  street,  and  canal  singing  is  to 
be  heard.  The  shopkeepers  sing  while  they  sell  their 
wares  ;  the  workmen  sing  on  quitting  their  labors  ;  the 
gondoliers  sing  while  waiting  for  their  masters.  The 
essential  character  of  the  people  is  gayety.  and  the 
character  of  the  Venetian  language  is  pleasantry. 

Delighted  to  see  my  country  again,  which  always 
appeared  to  me  more  and  more  extraordinary  and 
amusing,  I  returned  to  my  new  lodging,  where  I  found 


184  MEMOIRS   OF 

Imer  waiting  for  me,  who  informed,  me  of  his  inten- 
tion of  calling  on  M.  Grimani,  the  proprietor  of  the 
theatre,  next  day,  and  of  taking  me  with  him  to  he 
introduced  to  his  excellency,  if  I  had  no  other  engage- 
ments. As  I  was  unengaged,  I  accepted  his  proposi- 
tion, and  we  accordingly  went  together.  M.  Grimani 
was  the  most  polite  man  in  the  world  ;  and  he  had 
nothing  of  that  inconvenient  haughtiness  which  is  as 
prejudicial  to  the  great  as  it  is  humiliating  to  inferiors. 
Illustrious  by  birth,  and  estimable  from  his  talents,  he 
was  desirous  only  of  being  beloved,  and  his  amiable 
qualities  captivated  every  heart. 

He  received  me  with  great  kindness,  and  engaged 
me  to  labor  for  the  company  which  he  maintained  ; 
and  by  way  of  farther  encouragement,  he  gave  me 
hopes,  that  as  he  was  also  proprietor  of  the  theatre  of 
St.  John  Chrysostom,  and  undertaker  of  the  grand 
opera,  he  would  endeavor  to  employ  me  and  attach  me 
to  that  theatre.  Quite  pleased  with  his  excellency,  and 
the  kind  offices  which  Imer  had  rendered  me  with  him, 
I  gave  up  every  thought  but  that  of  deserving  the 
public  suffrage.  The  first  representation  of  Belisarius 
was  fixed  for  St.  Catharine,  a  period  when  the  vacations 
of  the  courts  are  at  an  end,  and  when  the  company  re- 
turn from  the  country.  In  the  mean  time  we  were  occu- 
pied with  rehearsals,  sometimes  of  my  tragi -comedy, 
and  at  other  times  of  my  interlude  ;  and  as  my  occupa- 
tions were  not  very  considerable.  I  prepared  something 
new  for  the  carnival.  I  undertook  the  composition 
of  a  tragedy  called  Rosimonda,  and  another  interlude 
called  La  Birba.  I  derived  the  plot  of  the  large  piece 
from  La  Rosimonda  del  Mute,  a  paltry  romance  of 
the  last  century,  and  the  smaller  one  was  a  picture 
of  the  Jugglers  of  the  Square  of  St.  Mark,  whose  Ian- 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  185 

guage,  humor,  tricks,  and  whole  behavior  I  had  studied 
with  great  care.  The  comic  traits  that  I  made  use  of 
in  my  interludes  were  so  much  grain  that  I  sowed  in 
my  field  to  ripen  one  day  into  an  agreeable  and  profita- 
ble harvest. 


XIII. 

At  length,  on  the  24th  November,  1734,  my  Beli- 
sarius  appeared  on  the  stage  for  the  first  time.  It  was 
my  début,  and  it  could  not  have  been  more  brilliant 
or  satisfactory  for  me.  My  piece  was  listened  to  with 
a  silence  altogether  extraordinary  and  unusual  in  the 
Italian  theatres.  The  public,  accustomed  to  noise,  gave 
vent  to  it  between  the  acts  ;  and  by  expressions  of  joy, 
clapping  of  hands,  and  reciprocal  signs  between  the  pit 
and  boxes,  the  author  and  actors  received  the  most  dis- 
tinguished marks  of  applause.  All  these  displays  of 
an  unusual  degree  of  satisfaction  redoubled  at  the  end 
of  the  piece  to  such  a  degree  that  the  actors  were  quite 
affected.  Some  wept  while  others  laughed,  and  these 
different  effects  flowed  from  the  same  feeling  of  joy. 
The  author  of  the  piece  is  not  called  for  in  Italy  for  the 
purpose  of  being  seen  and  applauded  on  the  stage. 
But  when  the  principal  actor  presented  himself  to  an- 
nounce the  play  for  the  succeeding  evening,  all  the 
spectators  at  once  cried,  "  Questa,  questa,  questa,"  that 
is  to  say,  "  The  same,  the  same"  ;  and  the  curtain  was 
dropped.  The  same  piece  was  accordingly  given  next 
day.  and  it  was  continued  to  be  given  every  day  till  the 
14th  of  December,  when  the  autumn  performances  were 
closed.  This  was  a  very  fortunate  commencement  for 
me,  for  the  piece  was  by  no  means  m  valuable  as  it  had 
been  estimated,  and  I  hold  it  myself  in  so  little  consid- 


186  MEMOIRS   OF 

eration  that  it  shall  never  appear  in  the  collection  of 
my  works. 

Elegant  literature  is  as  well  understood  and  as  much 
cultivated  at  Venice  as  in  any  other  place  ;  but  the 
connoisseurs  could  not  avoid  applauding  a  work,  the 
imperfections  of  which  were  well  known  to  them. 
Seeing  the  superiority  of  my  piece  over  the  farces,  and 
other  ordinary  productions  of  the  comedians,  they  were 
induced  to  augur  from  this  first  attempt  a  succession  of 
other  pieces  capable  of  exciting  emulation  and  paving 
the  way  for  a  reform  of  the  Italian  theatre.  The 
principal  defect  of  my  piece  was  the  appearance  of 
Belisarius  with  his  eyes  put  out  and  bleeding  ;  with 
this  exception,  the  play,  which  I  called  a  tragi-com- 
edy,  was  not  destitute  of  merit  ;  and  it  interested  the 
spectator  in  a  suitable  and  natural  manner.  My  heroes 
were  men  and  not  demigods,  their  passions  had  the 
degree  of  elevation  suitable  to  their  rank,  but  they 
appeared  with  the  properties  of  human  nature  with 
which  we  are  acquainted,  and  their  virtues  and  vices 
were  not  carried  to  an  imaginary  excess.  My  style 
was  not  elegant,  and  my  versification  has  never  been 
any  way  sublime  ;  but  this  was  precisely  what  was 
requisite  to  bring  back  to  reason  a  public  accustomed 
to  hyperboles,  antitheses,  and  everything  ridiculously 
gigantic  and  romantic. 

At  the  sixth  representation  of  Belisarius,  Imer 
thought  he  might  add  La  Pupilla,  and  this  little  piece 
was  very  well  received  by  the  public  ;  but  while  Imer 
supposed  the  interlude  supported  the  tragi-comedy,  it 
was,  on  the  contrary,  the  tragi-comedy  which  supported 
the  interlude.  At  all  events  I  was  a  great  gainer  ;  for 
the  public  seeing  me  come  forward  at  the  same  time  in 
the  two  walks  and  in  a  manner  altogether  new,  I  was 


CA.RLO   GOLDONI.  187 

honored  with  the  general  esteem  of  my  countrymen, 
and  I  received  the  most  flattering  and  distinguished 
encouragement  from  them. 

On  this  occasion  I  made  an  acquaintance  with  his 
excellency  Nicolas  Balbi,  a  Venetian  patrician  and 
senator,  whose  warm  and  constant  protection  has 
always  been  highly  honorable  to  me,  and  whose  opin- 
ions, credit,  and  adherence  have  alw«ys  been  of  the 
greatest  utility  to  me.  On  the  17th  January  my 
Rosiinonda  was  represented  for  the  first  time.  It  was 
not  damned  ;  but  after  Belisarius  I  could  hardly 
flatter  myself  with  an  equally  brilliant  success  :  it 
had  four  very  tolerable  representations.  On  the  fifth, 
Imer  supported  it  with  a  new  interlude.  La  Birba 
gave  high  pleasure  ;  this  very  comic  and  very  gay  trifle 
maintained  Rosimonda  during  four  other  represen- 
tations ;  but  at  last  we  were  obliged  to  return  to  Bel- 
isarius. This  piece  had  the  same  success  on  being 
resumed  as  at  first,  and  Belisarius  and  La  Birba 
were  played  together  till  Shrove-Tuesday,  and  finished 
the  carnival  ;  and  with  them  we  terminated  the  theat- 
rical year. 

The  theatres  are  not  opened  at  Venice  till  the  begin- 
ning of  October;  but  during  the  fifteen  days  of  the 
fair  of  the  Ascension,  there  is  a  grand  opera,  and 
sometimes  two,  which  have  sometimes  as  many  as 
twenty  representations.  Grimani,  the  proprietor  of 
the  theatre  of  St.  Samuel,  had  an  opera  in  that  season 
represented  on  his  account;  and  he  attached  me  to  that 
spectacle,  as  he  had  promised.  The  drama  which  they 
were  to  give  this  year  wTas  not  new  ;  they  had  chosen 
La  Griselda,  an  opera  of  Apostolo  Zeno  and  Pari- 
ati,  who  worked  in  conjunction  before  the  departure  of 
Zeno  for  Vienna,   in  the    emperor's  service,  and  the 


188  MEMOIRS    OF 

composer  who  was  to  set  it  to  music  was  the  Abbe" 
Vivaldi,  called  il  prête  rosso  (the  red  priest),  on  account 
of  his  hair.  He  was  much  better  known  by  this  nick- 
name than  by  his  real  name. 

This  ecclesiastic,  who  was  an  excellent  performer  on 
the  violin  and  an  indifferent  composer,  had  trained  and 
instructed  in  singing  Miss  Giraud,  a  young  singer,  born 
at  Venice,  but  the  daughter  of  a  French  hairdresser. 
She  was  not  pretty,  but  graceful  ;  her  shape  was  ele- 
gant, her  eyes  and  hair  were  beautiful,  and  her  mouth 
charming  ;  she  had  very  little  voice,  but  a  great  deal  of 
action.     She  was  to  represent  the  character  of  Griselda. 

M.  Grimani  sent  me  to  the  musicians  to  make  the 
necessary  changes  in  the  opera,  both  for  the  sake  of 
shortening  it,  and  changing  the  position  and  character 
of  the  airs  to  suit  the  actors  and  the  composer.  I  called 
therefore  on  the  Abbé  Vivaldi,  and  announced  myself 
as  having  come  from  his  excellency  Grimani.  I  found 
him  surrounded  with  music,  and  with  the  breviary  in 
his  hand.  He  rose,  and  made  the  sign  of  the  cross, 
put  his  breviary  aside,  and  then,  after  the  usual  com- 
pliments, u  What  motive,  sir,"  said  he,  "  procures  me 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  ?  "  "His  excelleucy  Gri- 
mani has  employed  me  to  make  such  changes  as  you 
may  deem  necessary  in  the  opera  of  next  fair  :  I  there- 
fore wish  to  be  informed,  sir,  what  are  your  intentions." 
"  So,  so,  you  are  employed  to  make  the  changes  in  the 
opera  of  Griselda  ;  M.  Lalli  is  not  now  then  attached 
to  the  theatre  of  M.  Grimani?"  "  M.  Lalli,  who  is 
very  old,  will  always  enjoy  the  profits,  the  epistles 
dedicatory,  and  the  sale  of  books,  which  I  do  not  care 
for,  — I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  being  employed  in 
an  exercise  highly  amusing  for  me,  aud  I  shall  have 
the  honor  of  commencing  under  the  orders  of  M.  Vi- 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  189 

valdi."  (The  abbé  resumed  his  breviary,  made  a 
second  sign  of  the  cross,  and  returned  no  answer.) 
"  Sir,"  said  I,  "  I  should  be  sorry  to  withdraw  you 
from  your  religious  occupation  ;  I  will  wait  upon  you 
another  time."  "I  know  very  well,  my  dear  sir,  that 
you  have  talents  for  poetry.  I  have  seen  your  Beli- 
sarius,  which  gave  me  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  ;  but 
this  is  a  very  different  affair  ;  it  is  possible  to  make  a 
tragedy  and  an  epic  poem  if  you  will,  and  yet  not  be 
able  to  write  a  single  musical  quatrain."  "  Be  so  good 
as  allow  me  to  look  at  your  drama."  "  0  yes,  with 
all  my  heart  ;  where  is  Griselda  gone  to  ?  It  was  here 
—  Deus  in  adjutorium  meum  intende — Domine  — 
Domine  —  Domine  —  it  was  here  this  very  instant  — 
Domine  ad  adjuvandum —  Ah,  here  it  is.  See,  sir, 
this  scene  between  Gualtiere  and  Griselda  is  very  in- 
teresting and  touching.  The  author  has  tacked  a 
pathetic  air  to  it,  but  Miss  Giraud  is  not  fond  of  lan- 
guishing songs  ;  she  wishes  something  expressive  and 
full  of  agitation,  an  expression  of  the  passions  by 
different  means,  by  words  interrupted,  for  example,  by 
sighs,  with  action  and  motion  ;  I  don't  know  whether 
you  understand  me?"  "  Yes,  sir,  I  understand  you 
perfectly  well  ;  besides,  I  have  had  the  honor  of  hear- 
ing Miss  Giraud,  and  I  know  that  her  voice  is  not  very 
powerful."  u  What,  sir,  do  you  mean  to  insult  my 
scholar  ?  She  is  good  at  everything,  she  can  sing  any- 
thing." '•  Yes,  sir,  you  are  right;  give  me  the  book, 
and  allow  me  to  proceed."  u  Xo,  sir,  I  cannot  part 
with  it,  I  am  in  want  of  it,  and  am  pressed  for  time." 
u  Very  well,  sir,  if  you  are  pressed  lend  it  to  me  a  mo- 
ment, and  I  will  instantly  satisfy  you."  "  Instantly  V1 
'•  Yes,  sir,  instantly." 
The  abbé  laughed  at  my  attempt,  and  gave  me  the 


190  MEMOIRS   OF 

drama,  and  paper  and  ink,  resumed  his  breviary,  and 
walked  about,  reciting  his  psalms  and  hymns.  I  read 
over  the  scene  with  which  I  was  already  acquainted  ; 
I  recapitulated  all  that  the  musician  desired,  and,  in 
less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  I  wrote  down  an  air  of 
eight  verses,  divided  into  two  parts.  I  then  called  my 
ecclesiastic,  and  showed  him  my  work.  Vivaldi  read 
it,  his  countenance  brightened  up,  he  read  it  again, 
threw  d»twn  his  prayer-book,  and  called  Miss  Giraud. 
When  she  entered,  he  exclaimed  "  Ah,  here  is  a  won- 
derful man,  here  is  an  excellent  poet  :  read  this  air  ; 
this  gentleman  composed  it  here  without  stirring  from 
the  spot  in  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour."  Then 
turning  towards  me,  he  said,  "  I  beg  your  pardon, 
sir  "  ;  and  he  embraced  me,  and  protested  he  would 
never  have  any  other  poet  than  myself.  He  confided 
the  drama  to  me,  with  orders  to  make  some  other 
changes  ;  in  all  of  which  he  was  satisfied  with  me,  and 
the  opera  succeeded  admirably.  I  was  now  initiated 
in  the  opera,  in  comedy,  and  in  the  interludes,  which 
were  the  forerunners  of  the  Italian  comic  operas. 

The  company  of  Grimani  had  gone  to  Padua,  to 
perform  there  during  the  spring  season,  and  I  was  ex- 
pected there  with  impatience  to  give  my  pieces.  AVhen 
I  got  clear  of  the  opera  of  Venice,  I  repaired  to  Padua. 
My  novelties  made  their  appearance  at  the  theatre  of 
that  place,  and  the  applauses  of  my  brethren  the  doc- 
tors were  equal  to  those  of  my  countrymen.  I  found 
that  great  changes  had  taken  place  in  the  company  ; 
the  waiting-maid  had  gone  to  Dresden,  having  been 
engaged  by  that  court,  and  the  harlequin  had  been  dis- 
charged ;  and  M.  Campagnani,  a  Milanese,  the  delight 
of  the  amateurs  of  his  country,  but  insupportable  when 
acting  with  professional  actors,  had  been  adopted  in 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  191 

his  place.  But  the  greatest  loss  experienced  by  the 
company  was  that  of  the  Widow  Casanova,  who,  not- 
withstanding her  connection  with  the  director,  had 
accepted  of  an  engagement  in  the  service  of  the  King 
of  Poland.  She  was  succeeded  as  a  singer  by  Madame 
Passalacqua,  who  at  the  same  time  performed  the 
characters  of  waiting-maids;  and  for  the  parts  of 
Livers,  they  had  made  an  acquisition  pf  a  Madame 
Ferramonti,  a  charming  actress,  who  was  young,  beau- 
tiful, very  amiable,  and  very  intelligent,  full  of  talents 
and  interesting  qualities. 

I  was  not  long  in  discerning  her  merit,  and  I  at- 
tached myself  in  a  particular  manner  to  her;  I  became 
the  friend  of  her  husband,  who  was  not  employed  in 
the  company  ;  and  I  formed  the  project  of  making  an 
excellent  actress  of  this  young  woman.  The  other 
women  did  not  fail  to  become  jealous  of  her.  I  ex- 
perienced several  disagreeable  occurrences  in  conse- 
quence ;  and  I  should  have  suffered  still  more  if  she 
had  not  been  carried  off  by  death  the  same  year. 

My  comedians  had  given  at  Padua  the  number  of 
representations  agreed  upon,  and  they  were  preparing 
t<>  visit  Udine  in  Venetian  Friuli. 

liner  proposed  that  I  should  accompany  him,  and  I 
consented  to  follow  the  company  ;  but  I  did  not  travel 
with  the  director.  I  made  my  excuse  to  him,  and  set 
out  in  an  excellent  carriage  with  Madame  Ferramonti 
and  the  good  man  her  husband. 

My  works  were  very  much  applauded  at  Udine. 
That  town  was  prepossessed  in  my  favor  ;  and  the 
author  of  the  Easter  poetry  was,  in  their  opinion,  a 
very  excellent  dramatic  poet. 

On  returning  to  Venice,  the  first  thing  I  did  was  to 
embrace  my  mother  ;  we  had  a  long  conversation  to- 


192  MEMOIRS   OF 

gether  ;  my  Venetian  property  was  disencumbered  ; 
my  Modena  revenue  increased  ;  my  brother  had  re- 
entered the  army,  and  my  mother  was  desirous  that  I 
should  again  resume  my  profession  of  advocate.  I 
reasoned  with  her  on  the  subject,  and  declared  that  as 
I  had  once  quitted  it,  and  made  my  appearance  in  my 
country  in  a  character  altogether  different,  I  could  no 
longer  flatter  myself  with  the  confidence  which  I  did 
not  merit  ;  while  the  career  which  I  had  entered  upon 
was  equally  honorable,  and  might  in  time  turn  out 
lucrative. 

My  mother,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  said  that  she 
durst  not  oppose  my  wish,  that  she  reproached  herself 
with  having  seduced  me  from  the  Criminal  Chancery, 
and  that,  having  confidence  in  my  reason,  honor,  and 
activity,  she  left  me  at  full  liberty  to  choose  my  own 
profession.  I  thanked  her  and  embraced  her  a  second 
time  ;  and  from  one  thing  to  another  I  came  to  the 

article  of  Madame  St.  and  her  daughter,   quite 

satisfied  that  the  contempt  expressed  by  these  ladies 
for  the  employment  chosen  by  me  had  relieved  me  from 
all  fear  and  embarrassment. 

"  By  no  means,"  said  my  mother,   "you  are  quite 

mistaken  ;    Madame  St. and  her  daughter  have 

waited  on  me  ;  they  overpowered  me  with  their  polite- 
ness, and  they  spoke  to  me  of  you  as  an  estimable  and 
wonderful  young  man.  Your  distinguished  success  has 
rendered  you  in  their  eyes  worthy  of  their  considera- 
tion, and  they  still  reckon  on  you." 

"  No,"  said  I,  with  a  tone  of  indignation;  "no,  my 
mother,  I  will  never  connect  myself  with  a  family  by 
wh<  »m  I  was  deceived,  ruined,  and  at  last  treated  with 
disdain." 

"  Do  not  alarm  yourself,"  replied  my  mother  ;  "  they 


CARLO  GOLDONI.  193 

are  not  richer  than  they  were  ;  I  shall  return  their 
visit,  and  endeavor  to  reason  with  them,  and  I  under- 
take to  procure  your  release.  Let  us  talk  of  something 
else,"  continued  she;  "  tell  me  what  you  have  been 
doing  since  our  separation." 

I  instantly  satisfied  her,  and  communicated  several 
of  my  adventures,  though  I  concealed  also  a  great 
number.  I  made  her  successively  weep,  laugh,  and 
tremble  :  we  dined  with  our  relations  ;  my  mother 
was  anxious  to  tell  the  company  what  I  had  imparted 
to  her  ;  but  she  only  confused  matters  and  excited  their 
curiosity,  and  I  was  myself  obliged  to  tell  everything 
over  again;  when,  exhilarated  by  the  gayety  of  the 
repast,  I  ventured  to  mention  a  number  of  particulars 
which  were  quite  new  to  my  mother.  "  Ah,  you 
knave!"  she  exclaimed  from  time  to  time,  a  you  did 
not  tell  me  this,  or  that,  or  that  other."  I  passed  my 
time  very  agreeably,  and  made  old  uncles  and  aunts 
laugh  at  my  expense,  who  never  laughed  before  in  their 
lives.  My  conversation  was  perhaps  in  those  days  more 
engaging  than  my  writings. 

Towards  the  end  of  September  my  company  of 
comedians  returned  to  the  capital  ;  we  rehearsed  our 
opening  piece,  and  on  the  4th  of  October  it  appeared 
on  the  stage.  The  novelty  produced  surprise  ;  the  lit- 
erary assembly  was  relished  ;  the  comedy  in  one  act 
failed  on  account  of  the  harlequin,  who  was  not  an 
agreeable  actor  ;  the  comic  opera  was  well  received, 
and  became  a  standing  piece  at  the  theatre. 

XIV. 

The  actors  of  St.  Samuel  were  to  pass  the  spring  the 
next  year  at  Genoa,  and  the  summer  at  Florence  ;  and 


194  MEMOIRS    OF 

as  there  were  six  new  actors  in  the  company.  Irner 
deemed  my  presence  necessary,  and  proposed  that  I 
should  accompany  him.  I  had  thus  an  excellent  op- 
portunity of  seeing  two  of  the  most  beautiful  cities  of 
Italy,  and  all  my  expenses  were  to  be  defrayed.  I 
spoke  to  my  mother,  who  always  approved  of  my  rea- 
sons, and  I  set  out  for  Genoa  with  the  director. 

After  passing  through  the  very  rich  and  delightful 
village  of  San  Pietro  d' Arena,  we  discovered  Genoa  in 
the  direction  of  the  sea.  What  a  charming  and  sur- 
prising spectacle  !  It  is  a  semicircular  amphitheatre, 
which  on  the  one  hand  forms  the  vast  basin  of  the  port, 
and  gradually  rises  on  the  other  along  the  declivity  of  the 
mountain  with  immense  buildings,  which  at  a  distance 
seem  placed  above  one  another,  and  are  terminated  by 
terraces,  balustrades,  or  gardens,  which  serve  for  roofs 
to  the  different  habitations.  In  front  of  these,  rows  of 
palaces,  hotels,  and  houses  of  citizens,  some  coated 
with  marble,  and  others  ornamented  with  painting,  the 
two  moles  winch  form  the  mouth  of  the  port,  are  to  be 
seen  ;  a  work  worthy  of  the  Romans,  as  the  Genoese, 
notwithstanding  the  violence  and  depth  of  the  sea, 
have  overcome  nature,  which  seemed  to  oppose  their 
establishment. 

We  alighted  near  the  lighthouse,  and  entered  by 
the  gate  of  St.  Thomas.  We  saw  the  immense  Doria 
palace,  where  three  sovereigns  were  lodged  at  the 
same  time,  and  we  then  went  straight  to  the  inn  of  St. 
Martha  till  we  got  the  lodgings  which  were  to  be  pro- 
cured for  us.  The  lottery  was  drawing  that  day,  and 
I  had  a  great  desire  to  see  that  ceremony.  The  lot- 
tery, called  in  Italy  li  II  lotto  di  Genova,'"  and  at  Paris 
"  La  loterie  royale  de  France,"  was  not  then  estab- 
lished at  Venice.     There  were,  however,  persons  who 


CARLO  GOLDONt  195 

disposed  of  tickets  underhand  for  the  lottery  of  Genoa, 
and  I  had  one  of  these  tickets  in  my  pocket,  which  I 
brought  from  home  with  me.  The  lottery  was  in- 
vented at  Genoa,  and  the  first  idea  of  it  was  suggested 
by  chance.  The  Genoese  draw  twice  every  year,  by 
lot,  the  names  of  five  senators  to  supply  the  places  of 
those  who  go  out  of  office.  The  names  of  all  those 
who  are  in  the  urn,  and  who  may  be  drawn,  are  known 
at  Genoa.  Individuals  of  the  town  began  by  betting 
among  themselves  :  one  said,  u  I  bet  that  such  a  one 
will  come  out  at  next  drawing  "  ;  another  said,  u  I  bet 
that  a  different  person  will  be  drawn  ' 7  ;  and  the  wager 
was  equal.  Some  time  afterwards,  banks  for  and 
against  were  opened  by  artful  persons,  who  gave  an 
advantage  to  those  who  put  into  them.  This  came  to 
the  ears  of  government,  and  the  small  banks  were  pro- 
hibited :  but  the  farmers  who  offered  for  them  were 
listened  to.  In  this  manner  the  lottery  was  established 
for  two  drawings,  and  some  time  afterwards  the  number 
was  augmented.  The  lottery  is  now  almost  universal, 
and  I  shall  not  presume  to  say  whether  it  is  deserving 
of  praise  or  blame  :  I  speak  of  everything  without  de- 
ciding anything  ;  and  endeavoring  to  view  things  in  as 
favorable  light  as  possible,  it  appears  to  me  that  the 
lottery  of  Genoa  furnishes  a  good  revenue  for  the  gov- 
ernment, an  occupation  for  the  idle,  and  a  hope  for  the 
wretched  and  unfortunate.  For  my  part  I  was  quite 
delighted  with  the  lottery  on  this  occasion  ;  for  I  gained 
a  prize  of  a  hundred  pistoles,  with  which  I  was  very 
well  satisfied. 

But  at  Genoa  a  piece  of  good  fortune  of  still  greater 
value  happened  to  me,  which  shed  its  blissful  influence 
over  all  the  rest  of  my  life  :  for  I  there  married  a  pru- 
dent, kind,  and  charming  young  woman,  who  indem- 


196  MEMOIRS    OF 

nified  me  for  all  the  tricks  played  me  by  other  wo- 
men, and  reconciled  me  to  the  fair  sex.  Yes,  my  dear 
reader,  I  became  a  husband,  and  I  will  tell  you  how. 
The  director  and  myself  -were  lodged  in  a  house  be- 
longing to  the  theatre.  I  had  observed,  opposite  the 
windows  of  my  room,  a  young  woman  who  appeared 
to  me  rather  pretty,  and  with  whom  I  wished  'to  form 
an  acquaintance.  One  day,  when  she  was  alone  at  her 
window,  I  saluted  her  somewhat  tenderly  ;  she  bowed 
and  instantly  withdrew,  and  did  not  make  her  appear- 
ance again.  This  excited  my  curiosity,  and  irritated 
my  self-love.  I  endeavored  to  learn  who  lived  oppo- 
site my  apartments.  The  house  belonged  to  M.  Conio, 
a  notary  of  the  College  of  Genoa,  and  one  of  the  four 
notaries  deputed  to  the  Bank  of  St.  George  ;  a  respect- 
able man,  possessed  of  property,  but  who,  having  a 
very  numerous  family,  was  not  in  .such  easy  circum- 
stances as  he  ought  to  have  been. 

So  far  good  :  I  was  desirous  of  forming  an  acquaint- 
ance with  M.  Conio  ;  I  knew  that  Imer  had  paper  of 
that  bank  derived  from  the  rents  of  boxes  which  he 
neg<  »tiated  by  means  of  exchange  brokers.  I  requested 
him  to  confide  one  of  the  bank-bills  to  my  care,  which 
he  very  willingly  did  ;  and  I  went  to  the  Bank  of  St. 
George  to  present  this  bill  to  M.  Conio,  and  to  avail 
myself  of  that  opportunity  to  discover,  his  character.  I 
found  the  notary  surrounded  with  people,  and  I  waited 
till  they  were  gone  ;  I  then  went  up  to  him,  and  re- 
quested him  to  have  the  goodness  to  pay  the  value  of 
my  note.  This  worthy  man  received  me  with  great 
politeness  ;  but  he  told  me  that  I  had  made  a  mistake, 
that  the  bills  were  not  payable  at  the  bank,  but  that 
the  first  exchange  broker  or  merchant  would  have 
given  me  cash  for  them  instantly.     I  begged  to  be  ex- 


CARLO   GOLDONL  197 

cused  ;  I  told  him  that  I  was  a  stranger,  and  his 
neighbor.  I  had  a  great  deal  to  say  to  him,  but  the 
hoar  was  advanced,  he  requested  permission  to  shut  up 
his  office,  and  told  me  that  we  should  converse  to- 
gether on  our  way  home. 

We  went  out  together,  and  he  proposed  taking  a  cup 
of  coffee  with  me  till  dinner-time  ;  I  accepted  the  pro- 
posal, for  in  Italy  we  take  ten  cups  of  coffee  a  day. 
We  entered  a  lemonade  shop,  and  as  M.  Conio  had 
seen  me  with  the  comedians,  he  asked  me  what  char- 
acters I  played.  "  Sir,"  said  I,  "  your  question  does 
not  offend  me,  for  any  other  person  would  have  made 
the  same  mistake.7'  I  told  him  who  I  was,  and  what 
my  employment  was  ;  he  apologized  for  his  mistake  : 
lie  was  fond  of  plays,  and  frequented  the  theatre  where 
he  had  seen  my  pieces,  and  he  was  delighted  as  much 
to  have  an  opportunity  of  becoming  acquainted  with 
me,  as  I  was  with  him.  This  brought  us  together; 
he  visited  me,  and  I  visited  him  in  turn  :  I  had  oppor- 
tunities of  seeing  Miss  Conio,  who  appeared  every  day 
more  agreeable  and  deserving  in  my  eyes.  In  a 
month's  time  I  demanded  from  M.  Conio  his  daughter 
in  marriage. 

He  was  in  no  way  surprised,  having  perceived  my, 
inclinations,  and  he  had  no  apprehension  of  a  refusal 
on  the  part  of  the  young  woman  ;  but,  like  a  wise  and 
prudent  man,  he  requested  a  little  time,  and  wrote  to 
the  Genoese  consul  at  Venice  for  information  respect- 
ing my  character.  I  could  not  object  to  this  delay, 
and  I  wrote  off  at  the  same  time,  imparting  my  pro- 
ject to  my  mother,  and  describing  my  future  wife  to 
her;  and  I  requested  her  to  send  me  instantly  all 
the  certificates  which  are  necessary  on  similar  occa- 
sions. 


198  MEMOIRS   OF 

In  a  month's  time  I  received  my  mother's  consent 
and  the  requisite  papers  :  and  a  few  days  afterwards 
M.  Conio  also  received  the  most  nattering  accounts 
<  if  me.  Our  marriage  was  fixed  for  the  month  of  July, 
the  portion  agreed  on.  and  the  contract  signed. 

liner  knew  nothing  of  all  this  :  I  had  grounds  for 
apprehending  that  he  would  endeavor  to  frustrate  my 
project.  He  was  in  reality  very  much  chagrined  at  it. 
as  he  was  obliged  to  pass  the  summer  at  Florence,  and 
I  could  not  accompany  him.  I  promised,  however, 
that  I  would  not  quit  the  company  :  that  I  should  la- 
bor for  tlie  season  at  Venice,  and  retain  in  good  time, 
and  I  kept  my  word.  I  was  now  the  most  contented 
and  happy  man  in  the  world  :  but  was  it  possible  for 
me  to  experience  happiness  without  some  misfortune 
afterwards  ?  I  was  seized  with  a  fever  on  my  mar- 
riage-night, and  I  experienced  a  second  attack  of  the 
small-pox,  which  I  had  had  at  Rimini  in  my  youth. 
Fortunately  for  me  I  was  riot  dangerously  ill,  and  my 
features  were  not  impaired.  My  poor  wife  shed  many 
a  tear  over  my  pillow  :  .-he  was  then,  and  has  always 
since  been,  my  chief  consolation. 

At  length  my  wife  and  myself  set  out  for  Venice  in 
the  beginning  of  September.  0  heavens  !  What 
tears  were  shed  !  What  a  cruel  separation  for  my 
wife  :  she  quitted  all  at  once,  father,  mother,  brothers, 
sisters,  uncles,  aunts  —  but  she  went  with  her  hus- 
band. On  arriving  at  Venice  with  my  wife,  I  intro- 
duced lier  to  my  mother  and  aunt.  My  mother  was 
enchanted  with  the  mildness  of  her  daughter-in-law. 
and  my  aunt,  who  was  not  in  easy  circumstances,  made 
a  friend  and  confidante  of  lier  niece.  It  was  a  charming 
family:  all  was  peace  and  harmony:  and  I  was  the 
happiest  man  in  the  world.     My  comedians,  who  had 


CARLO  GOLDONI.  190 

renounced  all  hopes  of  me,  were  glad  to  see  me  again, 
more  especially  as  I  brought  them  a  new  piece.  ••  Ri- 
naldo  di  Montalbano,"  a  tragi-eoinedy,  in  five  acts  and 
in  v. 

This  subject  was  derived  from  the  stock  of  the  Italian 
theatre.     I    purified   it    from   the   gross   faults    which 
rendered  it  insufferable,  and  brought  it  as  near  as 
Bible  to  the  style  of  the  ancient  chivalry,  ajid  the  decency 
and  decorum  requisite  in  a  piece  where  Charlemagne 
made  his  appearance.     The  public,  accustomed  : 
Rinaldo,  Paladin  of  France,  appear  in  the  council  of  war 
wrapped  up  in  a  torn  cloak,  and  harlequin  defend  his 
master's  castle  and  put  to  fiight  the  emperors'  soldiers 
with  kettles  and  broken  pots,  were  pleased  * 
the  calumniated  hero  maintain  his  cause  with  dignity, 
and  were  not  discontented  with  the  suppression  of  the 
misplaced  buffoonery. 

9  veral  changes  took  place  in  the  company  during 
Lent,  which  brought  it  as  near  the  point  of  perfection 
as  possible. 

We  changed  La  Bastona,  the  mother,  for  La  Bastona, 
the  daughter,  an  excellent  actress,  full  of  intelligence, 
noble  in  serious  parts,  and  very  agreeable  in  comic 
Vitalba,  the  principal  actor,  was  succeeded  by  Simo- 
netti,  who  was  not  so  brilliant  as  his  predecessor,  but 
more  décorons,  intelligent,  and  docile.  We  made  an 
acquisition  of  Golinetti  for  a  pantaloon,  who  was  but 
indifferent  with  his  mask,  but  admirable  in  the  character 
of  young  Venetians  without  one:  and  we  gained  also 
Lonibardi,  who  both  in  figure  and  talents  was  unrivalled 
in  the  part  of  the  doctor. 

What  rendered  the  company  perfect  was  the  acquisi- 
tion of  Sacehi,  the  famous  harlequin,  whose  wife  was 
tolerable  in  the  part  of  secondary  lovers,  and  whose 


200  MEMOIRS   OF 

sister,  though  a  little  extravagant  in  her  action,  per- 
formed very  well  in  the  character  of  waiting-maid. 

"  I  am  now,"  said  I  to  myself,  "  perfectly  at  my  ease, 
and  I  can  give  loose  to  my  imagination.  Hitherto  I 
have  labored  on  old  subjects,  but  now  I  must  create 
and  invent  for  myself.  I  have  the  advantage  of  very 
promising  actors  ;  but  in  order  to  employ  them  usefully 
I  must  begin  with  studying  them.  Every  person  has 
his  peculiar  character  from  nature  ;  if  the  author  gives 
him  a  part  to  represent  in  unison  with  his  own,  he  may 
lay  his  account  with  success.  Well  then,"  continued 
I,  "  this  is  perhaps  the  happy  moment  to  set  on  foot 
the  reform  which  I  have  so  long  meditated.  Yes,  I 
must  treat  subjects  of  character  :  this  is  the  source  of 
good  comedy  ;  with  this  the  great  Molière  began  his 
career,  and  he  carried  it  to  a  degree  of  perfection  which 
the  ancients  merely  indicated  to  us,  and  which  the 
moderns  have  never  seen  equalled." 

Was  I  wrong  in  encouraging  myself  in  this  manner  ? 
No  :  for  my  inclinations  were  fixed  on  comedy,  and 
good  comedy  was  the  proper  aim  for  me.  I  should 
have  been  wrong  had  I  entertained  the  ambition  of 
equalling  the  masters  of  the  art  ;  but  I  merely  aspired 
to  reform  the  abuses  of  the  theatre  of  my  country,  and 
this  required  no  great  extent  of  learning  to  accomplish. 
Agreeably  with  this  mode  of  reasoning,  which  seemed 
to  me  perfectly  just,  I  cast  my  eyes  round  the  company 
for  the  actor  best  adapted  to  sustain  a  new  character 
to  advantage.  I  fixed  on  Golinetti  the  pantaloon,  not 
for  the  purpose  of  employing  him  in  a  mask  which 
conceals  the  physiognomy  and  prevents  a  sensible  actor 
from  displaying  the  passion  which  he  feels  in  his  coun- 
tenance, but  I  admired  his  behavior  in  the  companies 
where  I  had  seen  and  sounded  him  ;  I  believed  him 


CARLO  GOLDONI.  201 

possessed  of  qualifications  for  an  excellent  actor,  and  I 
was  not  mistaken. 

I  composed,  therefore,  a  comedy  of  character,  under 
the  title  of  "  Momolo  Cortesan."  Momoloin  Venetian 
is  the  diminutive  of  Girolamo  (Jerome)  ;  but  it  is  im- 
possible to  translate  the  adjective  cortesan  into  any 
(  it  her  language.  This  term  cortesan  is  not  a  corruption 
of  the  word  courtier  (courtesan),  but  is  rather  derived 
from  courtesy  and  courteous.  The  Italians  themselves 
are  not  generally  acquainted  with  the  Venetian  corte- 
san :  hence  when  I  committed  this  piece  to  the  press,  I 
called  it  "  L'Uomo  di  Mondo/'  and  were  I  to  translate 
it  into  French,  I  should  be  induced  to  give  it  the  title 
of  "  The  Accomplished  Man."  Let  us  see  whether  I 
am  mistaken.  The  true  Venetian  cortesan  is  service- 
able, officious,  and  possessed  of  probity.  He  is  gen- 
erous without  profusion  ;  gay  without  rashness  ;  fond 
of  pleasure  without  ruining  himself;  he  is  prepared  to 
bear  a  part  in  everything  for  the  good  of  society;  he 
prefers  tranquillity,  but  will  not  allow  himself  to  be 
duped  ;  he  is  affable  to  all,  a  warm  friend  and  a  zeal- 
ous protector.     Is  not  this  an  accomplished  man  f 

I  shall  be  asked  whether  there  are  many  of  these 
cortesans  at  Venice.  Yes  ;  a  tolerable  number.  There 
are  people  possessed  of  these  qualities  in  a  greater  or 
less  degree  ;  but  when  we  are  to  exhibit  the  character 
to  the  public,  we  must  always  display  it  in  all  its  per- 
fection. 

That  any  character  may  be  productive  of  effect  on 
the  stage,  it  has  always  appeared  to  me  necessary  to 
contrast  it  with  characters  of  an  opposite  description. 
In  this  piece  I  introduced  a  rascally  Venetian,  who 
deceives  strangers  ;  and  my  cortesan,  without  being 
acquainted  with  the  persons  imposed  on,  secures  them 


202  MEMOIES   OF 

from  the  deceit  and  unmasks  the  knave.  Harlequin  is 
not  a  stupid  servaut  in  this  play  ;  he  is  an  idle  fellow 
who  insists  on  his  sister  supporting  his  vices  ;  the 
cortesan  procures  an  establishment  for  the  girl,  and 
subjects  the  lazy  fellow  to  the  necessity  of  working  for 
his  bread.  In  short,  this  accomplished  man  finishes 
his  brilliant  career  by  marriage,  and  chooses  among 
the  women  of  his  acquaintance  the  one  with  the  least 
pretensions  and  the  greatest  share  of  merit. 

This  piece  was  wonderfully  successful,  and  I  was 
satisfied.  I  saw  my  countrymen  renouncing  their  old 
relish  for  farces  ;  I  saw  the  announced  reform,  but  I 
could  not  yet  boast  of  it.  The  piece  was  not  reduced 
to  dialogue  ;  and  the  only  part  written  out  was  that  of 
the  principal  actor.  All  the  rest  was  outline  ;  I  had 
endeavored  to  suit  the  actors  ;  but  they  were  not  all 
equally  qualified  to  fill  the  void  with  skill.  There  was 
not  that  equality  of  style  which  characterizes  the  pro- 
duction of  one  author  ;  I  could  not  reform  everything 
at  once  without  stirring  up  against  me  all  the  admirers 
of  the  national  comedy,  and  I  waited  for  a  favorable 
moment  to  attack  them  boldly  with  greater  vigor  and 
greater  safety.  My  comedians  were  to  play  on  the 
mainland  during  the  spring  and  summer  ;  they  were 
desirous  of  my  following  them  ;  but  I  told  them,  in  the 
language  of  Scripture,  li  Uxorein  duxi  "  (I  have  taken 
a  wife). 

Another  reason  confirmed  me  in  my  resolution  of 
remaining  at  Venice.  The  proprietor  of  the  theatre 
where  my  comedies  were  acted  in  autumn  and  winter 
employed  me  to  write  a  musical  drama  for  the  fair  of 
the  Ascension  of  that  year.  I  composed  this  piece 
during  Lent,  and  I  was  desirous  of  being  present  at  the 
execution.     It  was  to  be  set  to  music  by  the  celebrated 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  203 

Galuppi,  who  wont  by  the  name  of  Buranello  ;  but, 
recollecting,  before  delivering  it  to  him,  that  I  was 
mistaken  in  my  Amalasonte,  and  being  uncertain 
whether  I  had  succeeded  in  observing  all  the  extrava- 
gances which  arc  called  rules  in  the  musical  drama,  I 
wished  it  to  be  seen  and  examined  before  submitting 
it  to  the  public,  and  I  made  choice  of  Apostolo  Zeno, 
who  had  then  returned  from  Vienna,  where  he  was 
succeeded  by  Metastasio,  as  my  judge  and  adviser. 

These  two  illustrious  authors  effected  the  reforma- 
tion of  the  Italian  opera.  Before  thein^  nothing  but 
gods,  devils,  machines,  and  wonders  were  to  be  found 
in  these  harmonious  entertainments.  Zeno  was  the 
first  who  conceived  the  possibility  of  representing  tra- 
gedy in  lyrical  verse  without  degradation,  and  of  sing- 
ing it  without  producing  weakness.  He  executed  the 
project  in  a  manner  the  most  satisfactory  for  the  pub- 
lic and  the  most  glorious  for  himself  and  his  nation. 
In  his  operas  we  see  heroes  such  as  they  actually  were, 
or  at  least  such  as  they  have  been  handed  down  to  us 
by  historians  ;  his  characters  are  vigorously  supported  ; 
his  plans  always  well  conducted  ;  his  episodes  are 
necessarily  connected  with  the  main  action  ;  and  his  style 
is  masculine  and  vigorous,  and  the  words  of  the  airs 
adapted  to  the  music  of  his  day.  Metastasio,  who  suc- 
ceeded him,  brought  lyrical  tragedy  to  the  utmost  per- 
fection of  which  it  was  susceptible;  his  style  is  pure 
and  elegant;  his  verses  flowing  and  harmonious;  an 
admirable  precision  and  clearness  prevail  throughout 
his  sentiments,  and  this  precision  is  concealed  under 
the  veil  of  an  apparent  facility;  he  displays  the  most 
affecting  energy  in  the  language  of  the  passions;  his 
portraits,  his  groups,  his  rich  descriptions,  his  mild  mo- 
rality, his  insinuating  philosophy,  his  analysis  of  the 


204  MEMOIRS    OF 

human  heart,  the  profusion  and  skilful  application  of 
his  knowledge  :  his  airs,  or  rather  his  incomparable 
madrigals,  sometimes  iu  the  manner  of  Pindar  and 
sometimes  that  of  Anacreon,  have  all  rendered  him  the 
subject  of  most  deserved  admiration,  and  entitled  him 
to  the  immortal  crown  conferred  on  him  by  the  Ital- 
ians and  acquiesced  in  by  other  nations. 

"Were  I  to  venture  on  comparisons,  I  should  say  that, 
in  his  style.  Metastasio  has  imitated  Racine,  and  that 
Zeno  imitated  the  vigor  of  Corneille.  Their  genius  re- 
sembled their  characters.  Metastasio  was  mild,  pol- 
ished, and  agreeable  in  company.  Zeno  was  serious, 
profound,  and  instructive.  To  the  latter  then  I  made 
my  application  to  analyze  my  Gustavus.  I  found 
this  respectable  author  in  his  closet  ;  he  received  me  in 
a  very  polite  manner,  and  listened  to  my  drama  from 
beginning  to  end  without  uttering  a  single  word.  I 
could  discern,  however,  from  the  expression  of  his 
countenance,  the  good  and  faulty  passages  of  my  work. 
"This  is  good,"  said  he,  taking  me  by  the  hand;  "it 
will  do  very  well  for  the  fair  of  the  Ascension." 

I  understood  his  meaning,  and  I  was  proceeding  to 
tear  my  drama  to  pieces  ;  but  he  prevented  me,  and 
told  me  by  way  of  consolation  that  my  opera,  however 
indifferent,  was  a  hundred  times  better  than  those 
which  their  authors,  under  the  pretext  of  imitation, 
<mly  copied  from  others.  He  durst  not  mention  him- 
self; but  I  knew  the  plagiarisms  of  which  he  had  good 
grounds  for  complaint.  I  profited  by  the  mute  correc- 
tions of  M.  Zeno  ;  I  made  a  few  changes  in  those  places 
at  which  my  judge  gnashed  his  teeth;  my  opera  was 
given  :  the  actors  were  good,  the  music  excellent,  and 
the  ballets  very  gay  ;  nothing  was  said  of  the  drama  ; 
I  kept  behind  my  curtain  ;  I  shared  in  the  applause  to 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  205 

which  I  had  no  claim  ;  and  I  said,  by  way  of  quieting 
myself,  This  is  not  my  fuite  ;  I  shall  have  my  revenge 
in  my  first  comedy. 

The  work,  which  I  had  in  readiness  for  the  return 
of  my  comedians,  was  "II  Prodigo"  (The  Prodigal). 
The  subject  of  this  piece  was  not  selected  by  me  from 
the  class  of  the  vicious,  but  from  that  of  the  ridiculous. 
My  Prodigal  was  neither  a  gamester,  a  debauchee,  nor 
magnificent.  His  prodigality  was  merely  weakness  ; 
he  gave  for  the  sole  pleasure  of  giving  f  his  heart  at 
bottom  was  excellent  ;  but  his  simplicity  and  credulity 
exposed  him  to  embarrassment  and  derision.  This  was 
a  new  character  ;  I  knew  the  origiuals  ;  I  had  seen  and 
studied  them  on  the  banks  of  the  Brenta,  among  the 
inhabitants  of  those  magnificent  and  delightful  country- 
houses  where  opulence  shines  forth  and  mediocrity  is 
ruined.  The  excellent  actor,  who  had  supported  so 
well  \he  brilliant  character  of  the  Venetian  Cortesan, 
succeeded  admirably  in  representing  the  slowness  and 
apathy  of  character  of  my  Prodigal.  I  gave  this  rich 
and  liberal  individual  a  knavish  and  dexterous  steward, 
who  availed  himself  of  the  disposition  of  his  master 
and  furnished  him  with  occasions  and  means  for  satis- 
fying it.  Whenever  money  was  wanted,  this  easy  indi- 
vidual .  always  ended  with  saying  to  the  traitor  who 
seduced  him:  "Carovecchio  fe  vu "3  that  is  to  say. 
"I  rely  on  you,  my  friend,  dt)  the  best  you  can."  Cer- 
tain persons  in  whose  mouths  this  phrase  was  familiar 
were  recognized,  and  attempts  were  made  to  discover 
the  original.  I  selected  him  from  the  crowd  of  rich 
individuals  who  are  the  dupes  of  their  weakness  and 
their  seducers;  but  an  anecdote  which  I  invented  hap- 
pened, unfortunately  for  me,  to  correspond  with  an  oc- 
currence in  real  life,  and  nearly  ruined  me.     A  young 


206  MEMOIRS    OF 

woman,  who  would  have  become  his  wife  but  for  the 
decayed  state  of  his  affairs,  is,  with  her  relations,  on  a 
visit  at  the  Prodigal's  house  on  the  Brenta.  The  lover 
offers  her  a  valuable  ring,  which  the  lady  refuses.  Some 
time  afterwards,  the  attorney  of  the  Prodigal  arrives 
from  Venice  with  the  news  that  he  has  gained  his  law- 
suit. The  generous  man  is  desirous  of  showing  his  joy 
and  gratitude,  and,  having  no  money,  he  gives  the  ring 
to  the  attorney,  which  he  accepts,  and  then  returns 
home.  In  the  mean  time  the  lady,  having  been  advised 
to  accept  the  trinket,  lest  the  young  spendthrift  should 
dispose  of  it  in  an  improper  manner,  returns  and  men- 
tions the  ring,  and  excuses  her  former  refusal  ;  she 
could  not  receive  it  without  permission  ;  that  permis- 
sion she  had  now  obtained  —  Alas  !  the  ring  is  no 
longer  in  his  possession  ;  the  lover  is  inconsolable,  the 
Prodigal  in  despair  !  What  trouble  and  embarrass- 
ment !  This  is  one  of  those  fortunate  situations  which 
amuse  the  spectators,  which  produce  revolutions,  and 
which  bring  the  action  naturally  to  a  close. 

It  was  said  that  this  adventure  had  actually  hap- 
pened to  an  individual  of  high  rank,  to  whom  I  lay 
under  considerable  obligations.  Fortunately,  this  lord 
did  not  discover  the  circumstance,  or  affected  not  to  per- 
ceive it.  He  was  interested  in  my  success  ;  my  piece 
succeeded  ;  and  he  was  as  well  pleased  with  it  as  my- 
self. My  Prodigal  had  twenty  successive  representa- 
tions when  it  first  came  out  :  it  was  equally  fortunate 
when  resumed  during  the  carnival  :  but  the  characters 
in  masks  complained  that  I  did  not  give  them  enough 
to  do,  and  that  I  was  on  the  point  of  ruining  them. 
They  had  their  amateurs  aud  protectors  disposed  to 
defend  their  cause. 

In  consequence  of  their  complaints,  and  agreeably  to 


CARLO    GOLDONI.  207 

the  plan  laid  down  by  me,  in  the  beginning  of  the  comic 
year  j  gave  a  comedy  of  intrigue,  entitled  the  "  Thirty- 
two  Misfortunes  of  Harlequin."  The  execution  of  this 
fell  to  Saechi  at  Venice;  and  I  was  certain  of  its  suc- 
cess. This  actor,  known  on  the  Italian  stage  by  the 
name  of  Truftaldin,  added  to  the  natural  graces  of  his 
action  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  the  art  of  comedy 
and  the  different  European  theatres.  Antonio  Saechi 
possessed  a  lively  and  brilliant  imagination;  he  played 
in  comedies  of  intrigue;  but  while  other  harlequins 
merely  repeated  themselves.  Saechi,  who  always  ad- 
hered to  the  essence  of  the  play,  contrived  to  give  an 
air  of  freshness  to  the  piece,  by  his  new  sallies  and  un- 
expected repartees.  It  was  Saechi  alone  whom  the 
people  crowded  to  see.  His  comic  traits  and  his  jests 
were  neither  taken  from  the  language  of  the  lower 
orders  nor  that  of  the  comedians.  He  levied  contribu- 
tions on  comic  authors,  on  poets,  orators,  and  philoso- 
phers ;  and  in  his  impromptus  we  could  recognize  the 
thoughts  of  Seneca,  Cicero,  or  Montaigne;  but  he  pos- 
sessed the  art  of  appropriating  the  maxims  of  these 
great  men  to  himself,  and  allying  them  to  the  simplicity 
of  the  blockhead;  and  the  same  proposition  which  was 
admired  in  a  serious  author  became  highly  ridiculous 
in  the  mouth  of  this  excellent  actor.  I  speak  of  Saechi 
as  of  a  man  no  longer  in  existence;  for,  on  account  of 
his  great  age,  there  remains  only  to  Italy  the  regret 
of  having  lost  him  without  the  hope  of  ever  possessing 
his  equal. 

My  piece,  supported  by  the  actor  above-mentioned, 
was  as  successful  as  such  a  comedy  could  be.  The 
amateurs  of  masks  and  outlines  were  satisfied  with  me. 
They  found  more  propriety  and  common-sense  in  my 
Thirtv-two  Misfortunes  than  in  the  comedies  of  art. 


208  MEMOIRS    OF 

I  observed  that  what  gave  the  greatest  pleasure  in  my 
piece  was  the  accumulation  of  events  upon  one  another. 
I  availed  myself  of  this  discovery,  and  gave,  fifteen  days 
afterwards,  a  second  comedy  of  the  same  kind,  still  more 
crowded  with  business  and  events,  as  I  called  it  "  The 
Critical  Night;  or,  The  Hundred  and  Four  Events  in 
the  same  Night." 

This  piece  might  he  called  the  touchstone  of  the 
comedians,  for  it  was  labored  with  such  complication 
and  ingenuity,  that  ncne  but  the  actors  to  whom  I  in- 
trusted it  could  have  executed  it  with  the  same  accuracy 
and  facility.  I  experienced  the  truth  of  this  four  years 
afterwards.  I  was  then  at  Pisa  in  Tuscany.  A  stroll- 
ing company  thought  proper,  by  way  of  paying  court 
to  me,  to  act  this  piece.  Next  day,  in  a  coffee-house 
on  the  quay  of  the  Arno,  I  heard  a  person  say,  "  Dio 
mi  guardi  da  mal  di  denti  e  da  Cento  e  Quattro  Acci- 
denti"  (God  keep  me  from  the  toothache  and  The 
Hundred  and  Four  Accidents).  This  proves  that  the 
reputation  of  an  author  frequently  depends  on  the  exe- 
cution of  the  actors.  He  ought  not  to  lose  sight  of  that 
truth.  We  require  the  assistance  of  one  another,  and 
we  ought  to  entertain  for  one  another  reciprocal  love 
and  esteem,  servatis  servandis. 


XV. 

I  had  satisfied  the  barbarous  taste  of  my  country- 
men, and  laughed  in  my  sleeve  at  their  compliments  ; 
and  I  burned  with  the  desire  of  carrying  the  reform 
completely  through.  But  an  event  took  place  this 
year,  which  interrupted  for  several  months  the  course 
of  my  favorite  occupation. 

Count  Tuo,  the  Genoese  consul  at  Venice,  having 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  209 

died,  the  relations  of  my  wife,  who  were  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  credit  and  influence,  demanded  the  place  for 
me,  and  soon  carried  it. 

I  was  now  in  the  bosom  of  my  country,  honored  with 
the  confidence  of  a  foreign  republie  ;  and  it  required 
some  time  to  become  acquainted  with  an  employment 
of  which  I  was  altogether  ignorant.  The  only  Genoese 
minister  at  Venice  was  their  consul.  I  was  therefore 
charged  with  everything.  I  wrote  off  despatches  every 
eight  days  ;  I  communicated  news,  and  set  up  for  poli- 
tician. This  trade  I  learned  at  Milan,  and  I  had  not 
yet  forgotten  it.  My  accounts,  reflections,  and  conjec- 
tures were  relished  at  Genoa,  and  I  was  by  no  means 
on  bad  terms  with  the  diplomatic  body  at  Venice. 

My  new  situation  and  my  new  occupations  did  not  pre- 
vent me  from  resuming  the  thread  of  my  theatrical 
pursuits  ;  and  in  the  carnival  of  the  same  year  I  gave 
an  opera  to  the  theatre  of  St.  John  Chrysostom,  and  a 
comedy  of  character  to  that  of  St.  Samuel. 

My  opera,  the  title  of  which  was  "  Orontes,  King  of 
Scythia,"  had  a  very  brilliant  success.  The  music  of 
Buranello  was  divine;  the  decorations  of  Jolli  superb; 
the  actors  excellent  ;  not  a  word  was  said  of  the  book  ; 
but  the  author  of  the  words  did  not  on  that  account 
the  less  enjoy  the  good  fortune  of  this  charming  spec- 
tacle. 

But  at  the  theatre,  when  a  new  piece  of  mine,  called 
"  The  Bankruptcy,"  was  acted  at  the  same  time,  all  the 
applauses,  all  the  clapping  of  hands  and  bravos,  were 
for  me.  In  this  piece  there  were  far  greater  numbers 
of  written  scenes  than  in  the  two  preceding  ones.  I 
proceeded  quietly  in  making  my  advances  towards  the 
liberty  of  writing  my  pieces  entirely  out  ;  and  notwith- 
standing the  impediments  of  masks,  I  soon  accom- 
plished my  wish. 


210  MEMOIRS    OF 

I  was  now  full  of  honors  and  joy  ;  but  you  know, 
my  dear  reader,  that  my  happy  days  have  never  been 
of  long  duration.  When  the  consulate  of  Genoa  was 
offered  to  me,  I  accepted  it  with  gratitude  and  respect, 
without  demanding  what  were  the  emoluments  of  the 
office.  This  was  another  of  my  follies,  for  which  I 
paid  dearly.  I  thought  of  nothing  at  first  but  render- 
ing myself  worthy  of  the  good- will  of  the  republic, 
with  whose  confidence  I  was  honored.  I  took  lodgings 
in  which  I  could  receive  foreign  ministers  in  a  suitable 
manner.  I  increased  my  domestic  establishment,  my 
table,  and  my  retinue.  I  thought  I  could  not  with 
propriety  act  otherwise.  In  writing  after  the  lapse  of 
some  time  to  the  secretary  of  state,  with  whom  I  cor- 
responded, I  mentioned  the  article  of  my  salary  ;  and  I 
received  for  my  consolation  from  the  secretary  an 
answer  nearly  in  the  following  terms:  u  Count  Tuo 
[my  predecessor]  served  the  republic  for  nearly  twenty 
years  without  any  emolument;  the  senate  were  satis- 
fied with  me  ;  the  government  considered  it  proper 
that  I  should  be  recompensed,  but  the  Corsican  war 
rendered  the  republic  unable  to  defray  an  expense  which 
for  so  long  a  time  it  had  ceased  to  provide  for." 

What  sad  news  for  me  !  The  profits  of  the  consulate 
did  not  amount  to  a  hundred  crowns  per  annum.  I 
wished  to  throw  up  my  situation  instantly  ;  but  by  the 
following  courier  I  received  a  letter  from  a  Genoese 
senator,  confiding  an  intricate  commission  to  my  care, 
and  encouraging  me  to  remain  in  office. 

A  person  intrusted  with  the  affairs  of  the  republic 
of  Genoa,  and  who  held  in  a  foreign  court  the  commis- 
sion of  the  senate,  and  full  powers  from  the  public 
creditors,  had  abused  the  confidence  of  the  Genoese, 
escaped  with    considerable    sums  of  money,  and  been 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  211 

living  for  several  days  quietly  at  Venice.  The  senator 
sent  ine  letters  of  credit  for  Santin  Cambiasio,  the 
banker,  and  a  power  to  obtain  the  body  or  a  seizure  of 
the  goods  of  his  debtor.  The  commission  was  deli- 
cate, and  the  execution  promised  to  be  attended  with 
difficulty.  I  knew  my  country,  however:  in  a  gov- 
ernment where  there  are  almost  as  many  primary 
tribunals  as  matters  subject  to  contestation,  if  the 
affair  be  good,  there  are  means  of  obtaining  justice 
without  violating  the  delicacy  of  the  law  of  nations.  I 
was  listened  to,  and  well  served  :  my  client  was  in- 
demnified, and  the  money  and  effects  passed  through 
my  hands  into  those  of  M.  Cambiasio,  to  be  disposed 
of  by  the  Genoese  patrician.  This  affair,  which  was 
well  conducted  and  happily  terminated,  did  me  infinite 
honor  ;  but  my  unlucky  star  was  not  long  in  over- 
whelming me  with  its  influence.  In  the  inventory  of 
the  effects  recovered  by  me,  there  were  two  boxes  of 
gold  enriched  with  diamonds.  I  was  intrusted  with  the 
sale  of  them.  I  confided  them  to  a  broker;  this  rascal 
pledged  them  with  a  Jew,  left  the  duplicates,  and  made 
his  escape.  I  was  the  responsible  person,  and  it  was 
requisite  to  pay  for  their  recovery.  M.  Cambiasio  sup- 
plied me  with  money  on  account  of  the  senator,  and 
my  father-in-law  paid  it  back  again  at  Genoa  out  of 
the  remainder  of  his  daughter's  portion  which  he  still 
owed  me. 

I  was  by  no  means  therefore  in  easy  circumstances 
in  the  beginning  of  the  year  1740  :  ami  to  add  to  my 
misfortune,  I  was  all  at  once  deprived  of  the  best  part 
of  my  rents.  The  war  between  the  French  and  Span- 
iards on  the  one  hand,  and  the  Austrians  on  the  other 
began  to  break  out.  It  was  called  the  war  of  Don 
Philip  ;  and  Lombardy  Mas    inundated  with    foreign 


212  MEMOIRS   OF 

troops  to  install  that  prince  in  the  possession  of  Panna 
and  Placentia.  The  Duke  of  Modena  joined  his  forces 
To  those  of  the  Bourbons.  He  was  a  generalissimo  of 
their  army  :  and.  to  support  the  expenses  of  the  war, 
he  stopped  the  payment  of  the  annuities  of  the  ducal 
bank  called  Luoghi  di  Monte. 

This  void  in  my  domestic  affairs  threw  me  into  great 
consternation.  I  could  no  longer  maintain  my  rank  in 
society.  I  formed  the  resolution  of  setting  out  instantly 
for  Modena  in  quest  of  money  at  all  hazards,  and  to 
pass  on  to  Genoa,  and  demand  justice.  I  wrote  in  con- 
sequence to  the  republic,  and  demonstrated  the  in 
sity  of  a  journey,  I  demanded  permission  to  appoint  a 
substitute  in  my  place,  and  I  waited  for  the  consent  of 
the  senate.  In  this  expectation,  and  in  the  midst  of 
my  chagrins  and  embarrassments,  my  brother  arrived 
from  Modena,  as  much  dissatisfied  as  myself  with  the 
suspension  of  our  annuities,  and  still  more  piqued  at 
not  having  been  included  in  the  new  promotion  made 
by  his  royal  highness  in  his  troops.  He  had  quitted  the 
service  altogether,  and  came  to  enjoy  his  tranquillity  at 
my  expense. 

On  the  other  haud,  I  was  teased  for  works  by  the 
comedians.  This  was  my  only  consolation;  but  Sacchi 
had  left  us,  and  the  half  of  his  comrades  had  followed 
him.  Golinetti,  the  pantaloon,  was  no  longer  with  us, 
and  the  most  essential  actors  were  all  new  to  me.  I 
sought  out  the  individual  amongst  them  most  capable 
of  interesting  me,  and  my  predilectiou  for  waiting- 
maids  induced  me  to  fix  on  Madame  Baccherini,  who 
succeeded  the  sister  of  Sacchi  in  that  character. 

She  was  a  young  Florentine,  extremely  pretty,  very 
gay.  and  very  brilliant,  with  a  plump  and  round  figure, 
white  skin,  dark  eyes,  a  great  deal  of  vivacity,  and  a 


CABLO  GOLDOXI.  213 

charming  pronunciation.  She  Lad  not  the  skill  and 
experience  of  the  actress  who  preceded  her,  but  she  was 
possessed  of  a  most  happy  aptitude  for  improvement, 
and  she  required  nothing  hut  study  and  time  to  arrive 
at  perfection.  Madame  Baccherini  was  married  as  well 
as  myself.  We  became  friends  ;  we  were  necessary  to 
each  other:  I  contributed  to  her  glory,  and  she  dissi- 
pated my  chagrin. 

It  was  an  established  custom  amongst  the  Italian 
actors,  fur  the  waiting-maids  t<>  give  several  times 
every  year  pieces  which  were  called  transformations,  as 
the  Hobgoblin,  the  Female  Magician,  and  others 
of  the  same  description,  in  which  the  actress,  appear- 
ing under  différent  forms,  was  obliged  to  change  her 
dress  frequently,  to  act  different  characters  and  speak 
various  languages.  Of  the  forty  or  fifty  waiting-maids 
whom  I  could  name,  not  two  of  them  were  bearable. 
The  characters  were  false,  the  costumes  caricatured, 
the  languages  indistinct,  and  the  whole  illusion  de- 
stroyed. What  else  was  to  he  expected  /  for  to  enable 
a  woman  to  support  in  an  agreeable  manner  such  a 
number  of  changes  she  must  be  under  the  real  opera- 
tion of  the  charm  which  is  supposed  in  the  piece.  My 
beautiful  Florentine  was  dying  of  eagerness  to  display 
her  pretty  countenance  in  different  dresses.  I  corrected 
her  folly  at  the  same  time  that  I  endeavored  to  gratify 
it.  I  invented  a  comedy,  in  which,  without  change  of 
language  or  dress,  she  could  support  different  charac- 
ters :  an  affair  which  is  not  very  difficult  for  a  woman, 
and  especially  a  clever  woman. 

The  title  of  this  piece  was  "  La  Donna  di  Garbo  " 
(The  Admirable  Woman).  It  afforded  great  pleasure 
in  the  reading;  Madame  Baccherini  was  enchanted 
with  it,  but  the  theatres  at  Venice  were  on  the  point 


214  MEMOIRS    OF 

of  closing.  The  company  were  to  pass  the  spring  at 
Genoa,  and  it  was  to  be  acted  there  for  the  first  time. 
I  proposed  to  appear  there  also  at  the  first  representa- 
tion, but  I  became  all  of  a  sudden  the  sport  of  fortune. 
Events  of  a  singular  nature  overturned  my  projects, 
and  I  did  not  witness  the  representation  of  my  piece 
till  four  years  afterwards. 

On  the  removal  of  the  comedians  I  felt  myself  lonely  ; 
for  in  my  then  disagreeable  situation  every  company 
wearied  me.  1  thought  only  of  my  journey  :  my  mother 
and  my  aunt  stood  in  no  need  of  my  assistance  ;  my  wife 
was  to  follow  me,  and  my  brother  alone  was  burden- 
some to  us  all.  He  entertained  the  highest  idea  of  him- 
self: I  was  of  a  different  opinion,  and  he  was  offended 
at  my  way  of  thinking.  For  example,  he  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  ask  me  to  propose  him  to  supply  my  place  dur- 
ing my  absence  from  Venice,  or  to  send  him  to  Genoa 
to  solicit  the  salary  of  my  office  ;  but  I  did  not  believe 
him  cut  out  for  either  of  these  commissions,  and  I  went 
on  as  usual,  till  I  should  receive  letters  from  Genoa,  in 
the  execution  of  my  project. 

The  letters  arrived,  the  permission  was  granted,  my 
substitute  was  approved  of,  and  I  was  satisfied.  I  re- 
solved therefore  to  go  to  Modena  to  demand  payment 
of  my  annuities  ;  to  go  to  Genoa  to  solicit  payment  of 
my  salary  ;  to  be  present  at  the  representation  of  the 
Donna  di  Garbo,  as  La  Baccherini  would  perhaps  re- 
quire my  assistance,  and  at  any  rate  would  be  very 
glad  to  see  me.  The  charms  of  this  delightful  actress 
added  to  my  eagerness  ;  I  feasted  myself  with  the  idea 
of  seeing  her  perform  this  important  part  in  my  piece. 

But,  0  heavens  !  the  brother  of  Madame  Baccherini  . 
was  still  at  Venice.     He  waited  on  me  ;  I  saw  him  in 
tears  ;  he  could  not  pronounce  a  single  word  ;  he  put  a 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  215 

letter  from  Genoa  into  my  hands,  containing  an  account 
of  the  death  of  his  sister. 

After  this  event  I  still  adhered  to  my  project3  bat  I 
was  not  so  eager  to  set  out,  and  even  endeavored  to 
put  off  my  departure.  A  Boeiety  of  noble  Venetians 
had  taken  a  lease  of  the  theatre  of  St.  John  Chrysos- 
tniu  for  five  years,  and  demanded  an  opera  from  me 
for  the  fair  of  the  Ascension.  At  first  I  refused  to  sat- 
isfy them  :  but  on  becoming  master  of  my  time,  I 
accepted  of  the  commission,  and  finished  it!  a  few  days 
an  opera  entitled  "  Statira,"  which  I  had  in  my  port- 
folio. I  was  present  at  the  rehearsals  and  the  rep- 
resentation of  this  drama,  and  I  drew  the  profits  of 
authorship  and  received  an  extraordinary  récompense 
from  these  generous  lessees.  I  had  reason  to  be  sat- 
isfied with  this  prolongation  of  my  stay  in  Venice,  but 
I  paid  very  dear  for  it  in  the  sequel,  and  I  was  in- 
debted to  my  brother  for  the  cruel  embarrassment  in 
which  I  was  placed.  He  entered  my  house  one  day  at 
two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  pushed  open  with  his 
cane  the  folding  doors  of  my  study.  His  hat  was 
drawn  over  his  brow,  his  countenance  was  red.  his 
eyes  sparkling,  —  I  knew  not  whether  from  joy  or 
rage.  Looking  hard  at  me  with  a  disdainful  air, 
"Brother,"  said  he,  "you  will  not  always  treat  me 
as  lightly  as  you  do  now."  "  What  do  yon  mean. 
brother?  "  "I  do  not  compose  verses,  but  every  one 
has  his  value,  —  I  have  made  a  discovery."  u  If  it 
can  be  of  any  use  to  you.  T  shall  be  exceedingly  glad." 
"  Yes,  useful  and  honorable  for  me,  and  still  more  use- 
ful and  honorable  for  you."  "For  me!"  "Yes:  I 
have  made  an  acquaintance  with  a  Kagusan  captain, 
a  man,  —  a  man  who  has  not  his  fellow.  He  keeps  np 
a  correspondence  with  the  principal  courts  of  Europe: 


216  MEMOIRS   OF 

he  ha?  commissions  at  which  you  would  tremble  ;  he 
is  employed  to  raise  recruits  for  a  new  regiment  of  two 
thousand  Sclavonians  :  hut,  0  heavens  !  if  the  gov- 
ernment of  Venice  were  to  discover  this,  we  should  he 
ruined,  —  brother,  —  brother,  —  I  have  disclosed  the 
matter,  yon  know  the  importance  of  discretion." 

I  wished  to  suggest  a  few  reflections  to  him.  "  Listen 
to  me,"  said  he,  interrupting  me  ;  "  there  is  a  captaincy 
here  open  for  me  ;  I  have  served  in  Dalmatia,  as  you 
know;  this  my  friend  also  knows;  he  knew  my  uncle 
Visinoni  at  Zara,  and  he  destines  a  company  for  me. 
But  for  you,"  continued  he,  "  it  is  quite  another  affair." 
"  For  me  /  what  the  devil  does  he  want  with  me  ?  n 
"  He  knows  you  by  reputation,  he  esteems  you,  you 
will  be  the  auditor,  the  grand  judge  of  the  regiment." 
"If"     "Yes,  you." 

At  that  moment  the  servant  entered,  and  announced 
to  us  that  dinner  was  ready.  "The  deuce  take  both 
you  and  the  dinner!"  said  my  brother;  "we  have 
business  to  transact  :  leave  us  undisturbed."  "  But 
cannot  you  defer  it,"  said  I,  "till  after  dinner  f  " 
"  Not  at  all  :  it  must  wait."  "  Why  ?"  "  The  cap- 
tain is  coming."  "  So  you  have  asked  him  ?"  "  Yes  ; 
are  you  displeased  that  I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  in- 
vite a  friend  !  "  "  The  captain  is  your  friend,  then  !  " 
"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it."  "  You  have  just  formed  ac- 
quaintance with  him,  and  he  is  your  friend  already  f  " 
"  We  soldiers  are  not  courtiers  ;  we  know  one  another 
at  first  sight;  honor  and  glory  form  the  bond  of  our 
union,  and  next  moment  we  become  friends." 

My    wife    arrived,    and   entreated    us   to    be   done. 
"  Good  heavens  !   madam,"  cried  my  brother,  "  this  is- 
being   very   impatient."     "  It    is  your   mother,"  said 
she,  "  who  is  growing  impatient."     "  My  mother,  my 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  217 

mother,  —  let  her  dine  and  go  to  bed."  "All  this,  my 
brother,  smells  sadly  of  gunpowder.1*  "  I  am  sorry, 
I  am  sorry  ;  but  the  captain  cannot  be  long."  A 
knock  was   heard;  it  was   the   captain;  a  number  of 

compliments  and  excuses  passed,  and  we  sat  down  to 
dinner. 

This  man  had  more  the  appearance  of  a  courtier 
than  a  soldier.  He  was  supple,  mild,  affected,  his 
complexion  was  wan,  his  face  long,  his  nose  aquiline, 
and  his  eyes  small,  round,  aucKgreenish.  He  was  very 
gallant,  very  attentive  to  the  ladies,  holding  grave  dis* 
courses  to  the  old  women,  and  saying  pleasant  things 
to  the  young,  yet  none  of  his  little  stories  seemed  to 
take  off  his  attention  from  his  dinner.  We  took  our 
coffee  at  table  ;  my  brother  put  me  in  mind  of  the 
remainder  of  my  stock  of  wine  for  the  sake  of  enter- 
taining his  friend,  and  the  Ragusan,  my  brother,  and 
myself  went  to  shut  ourselves  up  in  my  study. 

As  the  recommendation  of  my  brother  did  not  give 
me  the  most  favorable  idea  of  this  unknown  person, 
and  as  he  did  not  want  for  address  or  foresight,  he  re- 
counted to  me  in  a  very  rapid  and  elegant  preamble, 
his  name,  his  country,  his  condition,  his  titles,  his  ex- 
ploits, and  concluded  with  showing  me  the  letters- 
patent,  written  in  the  Italian  language,  in  which  he 
was  empowered  to  raise  two  thousand  men  of  the 
Illyrian  nation  for  a  new  regiment  in  the  service  of  the 
power  from  whom  he  held  the  commission.  In  these 
letters  the-  Ragusan  was  appointed  colonel  of  the  regi- 
ment, with  the  power  of  naming  officers,  judge,  quarter- 
masters, etc.,  and  they  contained  the  signatures  of  the 
sovereign  minister  and  secretary  of  state  of  the  war 
department  with  the  seal  of  the  crown.  I  was  not  any 
great  judge  of  these  foreign  signatures,  and  I  was  dis- 


218  MEMOIRS   OF 

trustful  of  a  man  whom  I  only  saw  foi  the  first  time, 
and  till  I  should  be  enabled  to  verify  their  authenticity, 
I  ventured  to  put  a  few  questions  to  the  captain,  who 
did  not  fail  to  give  me  satisfactory  answers.  I  first 
asked  him  by  what  accident  my  brother  and  myself 
were  so  fortunate  as  to  interest  him  in  our  favor. 

11  Your  brother."  said  he.  "is  a  man  who  may  be  of 
utility  to  my  interests.  He  is  acquainted  with  Dal- 
lnatia  and  Albania,  where  he  lias  served,  and  these  are 
two  provinces  capable  of  supplying  excellent  men  for 
our  regiment.  I  mean  to  provide  him  with  letters  and 
money  and  send  him  there  to  recruit."  At  this  my 
brother  clung  round  the  Bagusan.  "  You  shall  see, 
my  friend,  you  shall  see  ;  I  shall  procure  for  you  Dal- 
matians. Albanians.  Croatians,  Molachians,  Turks  and 
devils:  let  me  alone,  —  Gospodina,  Gospodina,  dobro, 
jutro,  Gospodina." 

The  captain,  who  was  himself  a  Sclavonian,  and 
laughed  in  his  sleeve  perhaps  at  this  displaced  lllyrian 
salutation  of  my  brother,  smiled,  and  turning  towards 
me:  "  For  you.  sir,"  said  he,  "  I  do  myself  an  honor 
in  requesting  yon  to  accept  the  office  of  auditor-general 
of  my  regiment.  You  are  bred  to  the  law,  and  your 
situation  of  consul —  But  apropos  of  the  place  which 
you  fill,''  continued  he,  "  I  have  a  favor  to  demand  of 
you.  I  am  at  present  in  Venice,  which  is  a  free  coun- 
try :  but  the  affair  in  which  I  am  now  engaged  is  very 
delicate,  and  might  give  offence  to  the  government  on 
account  of  their  Dalmatian  subjects  :  I  am  beset  by 
spies  :  I  am  afraid  of  being  taken  by  surprise  :  and  if 
you  could  lodge  me  in  your  house,  I  should  not  perhaps 
be  secure  from  the  pursuits  of  the  republic,  but  I  should 
have  time  to  escape  them." 

••  Sir,"  said   I,   "  my  lodgings   are   not   sufficiently 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  219 

commodious."  My  brother  exclaimed,  interrupting 
me,  "  I  shall  give  up  my  room  to  the  captain."  I  en- 
deavored to  defend  myself,  but  in  vain.  Thus  the 
Bagusan  got  himself  established  in  my  house. 

The  society  of  this  man  was  agreeable  enough;  I 
allowed  myself  to  he  gained  over  without  difficulty: 
and  I  conld  not  bring  myself  to  suspect  him.  I  wished, 
however,  to  have  nothing  to  reproach  myself  with. 
Wherever  I  heard  persons  mentioned  as  being  concerned 
in  the  secret  of  the  businessman  question,  I  began  to 
make  inquiries.  I  called  on  the  merchants  employed 
for  the  regimental  uniforms.  I  spoke  to  the  officers 
engaged  by  the  brevet-colonel.  He  received  one  day 
a  bill  of  exchange  for  six  thousand  ducats,  drawn  on 
MM.  Pommer, brothers,  German  hankers;  the  bill  was 
not  accepted  because  they  had  received  no  letters,  of 
advice,  but  the  signatures  were  exactly  imitated.  My 
belief  was  at  length  fixed,  and  I  fell  into  the  snare. 
Three  days  afterwards  the  Bagusan  entered  the  house 
in  great  agitation  and  consternation;  he  had  to  pay 
six  thousand  livres  in  the  course  of  the  day,  and  he 
could  procure  no  delay  ;  the  officers  of  the  law  would 
be  despatched  in  pursuit  of  him  ;  the  nature  of  the  debt 
would  discover  everything;  he  was  in  despair,  as  all 
was  ruined.  I  was  affected  by  his  discourse,  my  br<  »ther 
solicited  me,  my  heart  determined  me.  I  made  what 
efforts  I  could  to  raise  this  sum  ;  I  was  fortunate  enough 
to  succeed,  I  gave  it  in  the  course  of  the  day  to  my 
guest,  and  next  day  the  scoundrel  disappeared. 

I  was  plunged  in  embarrassment  :  my  brother  made 
inquiries  after  him  to  kill  him;  but  he  was  fortunately 
out  of  danger.  All  those  who  were  duped  by  the 
Bagusan  repaired  to  my  house,  and  we  were  forced  to 
stop  their  complaints  to  avoid  the  indignation  of  the 


220  MEMOIRS   OF 

government  and  the  derision  of  the  publie.  What 
resolution  could  I  adopt  .'  The  robber  left  Venice  on 
the  lôth  of  September,  1741,  and  I  embarked  on  the 
18th  with  my  wife  for  Bologna. 


XVI. 

Sad.  thoughtful,  and  plunged  in  chagrin,  I  was 
about  to  pass  a  most  disagreeable  night  in  that  courier's 

bark,  which  in  former  times  I  had  found  very  comfort  - 
al  >le  and  very  amusing.  My  wife,  who  was  more  reason- 
able than  myself,  instead  of  complaining  of  lier  situati*  >n, 
Bought  only  to  console  me.  Animated  by  her  example 
and  advice,  I  endeavored  to  dispel  the  regret  for  the 
past  by  the  hope  of  better  fortune  in  future.  I  fell 
asleep,  and  I  found  myself,  on  awaking,  like  a  man 
who  lias  been  shipwrecked  and  who  has  saved  himself 
by  swimming. 

On  arriving  at  the  bridge  of  Lago  Seuro  on  the  Po, 
at  a  league's  distance  from  Ferrara,  I  took  post  and 
arrived  in  the  evening  at  Bologna.  I  was  well  ac- 
quainted with  that  <-ity.  and  well  known  there.  The 
directors  of  the  theatres  called  upon  me  ;  they  asked  me 
f»r  some  of  my  pieces:  I  made  some  difficulty,  but  I 
was  in  want  of  money:  they  took  care  to  offer  me 
some,  and  1  was  not  backward  in  accepting  it.  I  con- 
fided three  of  my  originals  to  them  to  be  copied  out. 
It  was  necessary  to  wait  :  I  waited  accordingly,  and  I 
did  not  lose  my  time. 

I  was  asked  at  Venice  for  a  comedy  without  females 
and  susceptible  of  military  exercises,  for  a  college  of 
the  Jesuits.  The  pretended  captain,  who  deceived  me, 
occurred  to  my  mind  and  furnished  me  with  a  subject. 
I  entitled  my  piece  "The  Impostor*':    I  employed  in 


CARLO   GOLDONL  221 

it  all  the  warmth  which  indignation  could  possihly  in- 
spire :  I  portrayed  my  brother  in  vivid  characters  in  it; 
I  did  not  span*  myself,  and  I  covered  my  simplicity 
with  all  the  ridicule  which  it  deserved.  This  little 
undertaking  was  of  infinite  benefit  to  me;  it  effaced 
from  my  mind  the  dark  hues  with  which  it  was  colored 
by  the  wickedness  of  a  knave  ;  I  deemed  myself  re- 
venged. -My  piece  was  concluded;  the  director.?  re- 
turned me  my  manuscripts,  and  I  proposed  setting  out 
for  Modena.  >* 

At  Bologna  there  was  an  excellent  actor  who  played 
pantaloon,  and  who,  being  in  easy  circumstances,  pre- 
ferred enjoying  himself  in  the  fine  season,  and  to  eon- 
fine  his  acting  to  winter.  This  man,  whose  name  was 
Ferramonti,  had  never  quitted  me  during  my  stay  at 
Bologna.  He  had  entered  into  an  engagement  with  a 
company  of  comedians  at  Rimini,  in  the  service  of  the 
Spanish  camp,  and  he  came  to  take  his  leave  of  me  on 
setting  out. 

"  You  are  going  to  Rimini,"  said  I,  "  and  I  am 
going  to  Modena."  "What  are  yon  going  to  do  at 
Modena?"  said  he,  "they  are  all  in  consternation 
there  ;  the  duke  has  left  the  place."  "  What,  the 
duke  is  not  there  V  "  He  is  engaged  in  a  ruinous 
war."  "  I  know  that  ;  but  where  is  he  ?  "  "  He  is  at 
Rimini,  in  the  Spauish  camp,  where  he  will  pass  the 
winter." 

This  threw  me  into  great  distress.  "  I  have  lost  my 
opportunity  through  my  own  fault  :  I  have  lost  too 
much  time."  "  Conic  along  with  me  to  Rimini,"  said 
Ferramonti,  "where  you  will  find  a  tolerable  com- 
pany; they  ought  to  know  and  esteem  you.  Come 
with  me.  you  shall  do  something  for  us,  and  we  will  do 
everything  for  you." 


222  MEMOIRS    OF 

The  proposition  did  not  displease  me  ;  but  I  wished 
to  consult  my  wife.  She  was  a  Genoese  ;  we  were  on 
the  road  to  her  relations  ;  but,  poor  child  !  she  was 
goodness  and  complacency  personified.  Whatever  her 
husband  proposed  was  approved  of  by  her.  Content 
to  see  me  tranquil  and  satisfied,  she  encouraged  me  to 
follow  my  new  project,  and  we  set  out  three  days  after- 
wards with  the  good  old  Venetian. 

On  arriving  within  sight  of  the  ramparts  of  Rimini, 
Ave  were  stopped  at  the  first  advanced  post  and  escorted 
to  the  main  guard.  There  the  comedian  was  set  at 
liberty  on  declaring  who  he  was,  and  my  wife  and  my- 
self were  sent  to  the  court  of  Modena.  I  knew  several 
persons  of  all  ranks  attached  to  his  highness  ;  '  I  was 
well  received,  and  even  caressed.  A  lodging  was  pro- 
cured for  me,  and  next  day  I  was  presented  to  that 
prince,  who  received  me  with  kindness,  and  asked  me 
the  motive  which  induced  me  to  visit  Rimini.  I  was 
not  long  in  telling  him  the  truth  ;  but  I  had  no  sooner 
pronounced  the  words  "  ducal  bank"  and  "  arrears,"  than 
his  highness  turned  the  conversation  to  the  theatre,  my 
piece,  and  my  success;  and  the  audience  terminated 
two  minutes  afterwards.  I  saw  that  I  had  nothing  to 
hope  for  from  this  quarter  ;  I  turned  my  views  next 
to  the  comedians,  where  my  expectations  were  better 
realized. 

I  was  invited  to  dinner  with  the  director,  to  whom 
Ferramonti  had  spoken  a  great  deal  about  me.  All 
the  company  were  present  ;  the  principal  female  char- 
acter was  an  excellent  actress,  but  very  much  ad- 
vanced in  years  ;  the  second  actress  was  a  stupid  and 
badly  educated  beauty  ;  Coloinbina  was  a  fresh  and 
attractive  brunette  ;  she  was  the  waiting-maid. 

Everybody  asked  me  for  pieces;    every  one  wished 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  223 

to  be  the  principal  subject.  To  whom  was  I  to  give 
the  preference  }.  The  Count  de  Grosberg  extricated  me 
fnan  my  embarrassment.  This  brave  officer,  brigadier- 
general  of  the  regiment  of  Walloon  guards,  in  the 
army  of  his  Catholic  Majesty,  was  strongly  attached 
to  the  theatre.  He  was  a  particular  protector  of  har- 
lequin. He  requested  me  to  labor  for  that  character, 
and  I  did  so  with  the  greatest  pleasure,  as  the  harle- 
quin was  good  and  the  protector  generous. 

The  theatre  was  closed  041  the  termination  of  the 
carnival.  M.  de  Gages,  who  acted  along  with  the 
generalissimo  as  general  commandant,  kept  up  the 
most  exact  order,  and  the  most  rigorous  discipline 
throughout  the  whole  army.  There  was  no  gaming, 
no  balls,  no  suspicious  characters.  Rimini  resembled 
a  convent.  The  Spaniards  paid  their  court  to  the 
ladies  of  the  country  in  the  Castilian  manner  ;  and  the 
ladies  were  pleased  to  see  the  sons  of  Mars  on  their 
bended  knees  before  them.  The  societies  were  numer- 
ously attended,  but  free  from  tumult,  and  gallantry 
shone  forth  without  scandal. 

The  German  troops  quartered  in  the  Bologna  ter- 
ritories made  some  movements  which  alarmed  the 
Spaniards.  In  three  days  the  army  decamped,  and  I 
remained  at  Rimini  in  a  state  of  greater  embarrassment 
than  ever.  I  was  a  subject  of  the  Duke  of  Modena  ; 
and  I  was  Genoese  consul  at  Venice  ;  and  these  two 
nations  in  that  war  took  the  side  of  the  Bourbons.  I 
had  every  reason  to  fear  being  considered  by  the  Aus- 
trians  as  a  suspicious  character.  I  communicated  my 
fears  to  persons  belonging  to  the  country  with  whom  I 
was  acquainted.  Everybody  considered  them  well 
founded  ;  but  then  how  was  I  t<>  act  ?  Neither  horses 
nor  carriages  were  to  be  had.  The  army  had  carried 
off  everything. 


224  MEMOIRS   OF 

I  found  some  foreign  merchants  in  the  same  predic- 
ament with  myself.  I  entered  into  an  arrangement 
with  them;  we  agreed  to  go  by  sea,  and  hired  a  bark 
for  Pesaro.  The  weather  was  favorable,  but  there 
had  been  a  storm  the  night  before,  and  the  sea  was 
still  in  agitation.  Our  women  suffered  very  much  ;  my 
wife  spit  blood.  We  anchored  in  Catholica  Roads,  the 
half  of  our  projected  voyage  ;  and  finished  our  jour- 
ney by  land  in  a  peasant's  cart  We  left  our  effects  in 
charge  of  some  of  our  domestics,  who  were  to  join  us 
at  Pesaro,  and  we  arrived  in  that  town  fatigued  and 
exhausted,  without  acquaintances  and  without  lodgings, 
and  yet  these  were  the  least  of  the  evils  in  store  for 
us.  All  was  in  confusion  in  Pesaro,  which  had  more 
people  than  could  be  contained  in  it.  There  was  no 
room  in  the  inns,  and  no  furnished  lodgings  to  be  had. 

Count  de  Grosberg  was  at  Fano  ;  all  the  officers  of 
my  acquaintance  were  occupied,  and  the  persons  at- 
tached to  the  Duke  of  Modena  could  only  offer  me  their 
table.  A  Modenese  valet,  in  possession  of  a  garret, 
resigned  his  elegant  apartment  to  me  for  money. 
Next  day  I  left  my  wife  in  her  garret,  and  went  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Foglia  to  see  if  my  goods  were  ar- 
rived. I  found  my  travelling  companions  there  on 
the  same  errand.  They  had  passed  the  night  still 
more  uncomfortably  than  myself.  No  barks  from  Ri- 
mini :  no  news  of  our  effects.  I  went  back  to  the 
town.  Count  de  Grosberg  had  returned;  he  took 
compassion  on  me,  and  allowed  me  to  lodge  with  him- 
self. At  this  I  was  not  a  little  rejoiced;  but  two 
hours  afterwards  I  was  plunged  again  in  a  terrible 
consternation. 

I  met  one  of  the  merchants  whom  I  had  seen  by 
the   seashore,  and   found   him    in   great    distress   and 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  225 

tation.     "Well,   sir,"     said    he,    " no    news     yet?" 

"Alas  .'"said  he,  u  all  is  lust:  the  Austrian  hussars 
have  taken  possession  of  Catholica  ;  our  bark,  our 
effects  and  servants,  arc  in  their  hands.  I  have  just 
now  received  a  letter  from  my  correspondent  at  Ri- 
mini, communicating  the  news."  "  0  heavens  !  what 
shall  we  do  .'  "  said  I.  '•  I  know  not,"  he  replied;  and 
abruptly  quitted  me. 

I  stood  thunderstruck.  The  loss  was  irreparable 
for  me  ;  my  wife  and  myself  were  very  well  equipped  ; 
we  had  three  trunks,  two  portmanteaus,  boxes,  and 
bandboxes  ;  and  now  we  were  left  without  a  shirt. 
Great  evils  require  great  remedies.  I  formed  my  pro- 
ject instantly  ;  I  thought  it  a  good  one,  and  proceeded 
to  communicate  it  to  my  protector.  I  found  him  ap- 
prised of  the  invasion  of  Catholica,  and  acquainted 
him  with  the  loss  of  my  effects.  "I  shall  go  and 
endeavor  to  recover  them,"  said  I  ;  "I  am  not  a 
soldier,  I  am  not  attached  to  Spain;  I  require  merely 
a  conveyance  for  myself  and  wife."  Count  de  Gros- 
berg  admired  my  courage  ;  and  to  get  rid  of  us  per- 
haps, he  commenced  with  procuring  for  me  the  pass- 
ports of  the  German  commissary,  who  followed  the 
Spanish  troops  for  that  purpose,  and  who  gave  orders 
to  let  me  have  a  chaise.  There  was  no  post  at  that 
time  ;  the  drivers  concealed  themselves.  One  was 
at  length  discovered,  and  they  forced  him  to  take  me. 
He  was  kept  all  night  in  M.  de  Grosberg's  stables, 
and  I  set  out  early  next  morning. 

I  have  not  spoken  of  my  wife  since  this  last  acci- 
dent, for  the  sake  of  not  tiring  my  reader's  patience, 
but  the  situation  of  a  woman  who  loses  all  at  once  — 
her  jewels,  dress,  and  everything  belonging  to  her, 
may   be    easily   imagined.     However,    she   was   of  a 


226  MEMOIRS   OF 

thoroughly  good  and  reasonable  temper,  and  readily  ac- 
companied me  on  my  journey.  The  driver,  a  fair  speak- 
ing but  crafty  fellow,  came  fur  us  when  he  was  ready, 
and  exhibited  not  the  slightest  mark  of  discontent  ;  and 
we  set  out  after  takinir  some  breakfast,  quite  tranquil  and 
gay.  The  distance  from  Pesaro  to  Catholica  was  ten 
miles  :  we  had  gone  three  of  them,  when  we  were 
under  the  necessity  of  alighting.  I  ordered  the  driver 
to  stop  :  we  got  down,  and  the  rascal  turned  the 
horses  immediately,  set  off  at  a  gallop  for  Pesaro,  and 
left  us  in  the  middle  of  the  highway  without  either 
resource,  or  the  slightest  hope  of  finding  any.  Not  a 
living  soul  was  to  be  seen.  Not  a  peasant  in  the  fields, 
not  a  single  inhabitant  in  any  of  the  houses  :  every- 
l«  >dy  dreaded  the  approach  of  the  two  armies  ;  my 
wife  wept.  I  raised  my  eyes  towards  heaven,  and  felt 
myself  inspired.  "  Courage,"  said  I,  "  my  dear  friend  ; 
we  are  but  six  miles  from  Catholica;  we  are  young 
enough  and  strong  enough  to  walk  that  distance  ;  we 
must  not  return. — we  must  have  nothing  to  reproach 
ourselves  with.''  She  complied  with  the  best  grace  in 
the  world,  and  we  continued  our  journey  on  foot. 

After  an  hour's  walk  we  came  to  a  rivulet  too 
broad  to  be  leaped  and  too  deep  to  be  forded  by  my 
wife.  There  was  a  small  wooden  bridge  for  the  con- 
venience of  foot-passengers,  but  the  planks  were  all 
broken.  This  did  not  disconcert  me:  I  stooped 
down,  my  wife  put  her  arms  round  my  neck,  I  rose 
smilinçf.  crossed  over  the  stream  with  inexpressible  joy, 
and  said  to  myself,  "  Omnia  bona  mea  mecum  porto  " 
(I  carry  all  my  property  upon  me).  My  feet  and  legs 
were  wet,  but  it  did  not  signify.  We  continued  our 
journey,  and  after  some  time  came  to  another  stream 
like  that  we  had  passed.     The  depth  was  similar,  and 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  227 

the  bridge  was  equally  ruinons.  This  was  no  ob- 
stacle ;  we  passed  it  as  we  did  die  former,  and  with 
the  same  gayety.  Rut  it  was  a  very  different  matter 
when,  close  upon  Catholica,  we  came  to  a  torrent  of 
considerable  breadth,  which  rushed  along  with  great 
fury.  We  sat  down  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  till  Provi- 
dence should  afford  us  the  means  of  crossing  it  with- 
out danger. 

Neither  carriages,  horses,  nor  carts  were  to  be  seen  ; 
then-  was  no  inn  in  the  neighborhood;  we  were  fa- 
tigued, we  had  passed  this  day  without  eating  any- 
thing, and  we  were  therefore  in  want  of  some  refresh- 
ment. I  rose  for  the  purpose  of  looking  about  me. 
"This  torrent,"  said  I,  u  must  necessarily  enter  the 
sea.  If  we  descend  its  banks,  we  shall  at  last  come 
to  the  mouth  of  it."  We  proceeded  accordingly  down 
the  stream,  instigated  by  distress  and  supported  by 
hope:  and  we  began  to  discover  sails,  which  were  an 
indication  of  the  proximity  of  the  sea.  This  infused 
courage  into  us,  and  we  quickened  our  pace.  As  we 
proceeded,  we  observed  the  torrent  become  less  and 
less  agitated,  and  our  joy  was  not  to  be  contained 
when  at  length  our  eyes  were  blessed  with  the  sight 
of  a  boat.  It  belonged  to  some  fishermen,  from 
whom  we  met  with  a  very  kind  reception.  They 
carried  us  over  to  the  opposite  bank,  ami  returned  us 
a  thousand  thanks  for  a  paoli  which  I  gave  them.  A 
geeond  consolatory  circumstance  was  neither  less  agree- 
able nor  less  necessary  to  us.  A  branch  of  a  tree 
attached  to  a  cottage  announced  a  place  of  refresh- 
ment :  we  procured  milk  and  new-laid  (fiZ^,  with 
which  we  were  highly  satisfied. 

The  repose  and  Slight  nourishment  which  we  had 
taken    enabled   us   to   proceed    on    our  journey.      We 


228  MEMOIRS   OF 

were  guided  by  a  lad  of  the  inn  to  the  first  advanced 
posts  of  the  Austrian  hussars.  I  presented  my  pass- 
port to  the  sergeant,  who  detached  two  soldiers  to 
escort  us,  and  Ave  arrived  through  fields  of  trodden 
grain,  and  vines  and  trees  cut  down  in  all  directions, 
to  the  quarters  of  the  colonel  commandant.  This 
officer  received  us  at  first  as  he  would  any  two  foot- 
paesengers  ;  "but  on  reading  the  passport  which  one  of 
the  soldiers  gave  him,  he  requested  us  to  he  seated. 
Then  looking  at  me  with  an  air  of  goodness,  he  ex- 
claimed: "What,  are  you  M.  Goldoni?"  "Alas!  I 
am,  sir."  "The  author  of  Belisarius  and  of  the 
Venetian  Cortesan?"  "The  same."  "And  is  this 
lady  Madame  Goldoni?"  "She  is  my  only  remain- 
ing property."  "  I  was  told  that  you  were  on  foot." 
"It  is  hut  too  true,  sir." 

I  then  recounted  to  him  the  rascally  trick  which 
the  driver  of  Pesaro  played  us  ;  I  described  our  sad 
journey  to  him,  and  concluded  with  mentioning  the 
seizure  of  our  property,  assuring  him  that  my  resources 
and  my  situation  in  life  depended  altogether  on  my 
recovering  them. 

"  Not  so  fast,  if  you  please,"  said  the  commandant  ; 
"why  do  you  follow  the  army  ?  Why  are  you  connected 
with  the  Spaniards  ?  " 

As  the  truth  had  never  yet  injured  me,  hut  had  al- 
ways, on  the  contrary,  "been  my  support  and  my  defence, 
I  gave  him  a  short  account  of  my  adventures.  I  men- 
tioned my  Genoese  consulate,  my  Modena  annuities, 
my  views  of  indemnification  ;  and  I  told  him  that  I 
should  he  completely  ruined  if  I  were  deprived  of  the 
small  remains  of  my  wrecked  fortune. 

"  Console  yourself,"  said  he  in  a  friendly  tone  to  me, 
"  you  shall  not  lose  it."     My  wife  rose  with  tears  of 


CARLO   GOLDONI.  229 

joy  in  her  eyes,  and  I  in  turn  wished  to  express  my 
gratitude  ;  but  the  colonel  would  not  listen  to  me.  He 
ordered  my  servant  and  all  my  property  to  be  sent  to 
me,  but  on  one  condition,  that  I  might  take  any  road 
but  that  of  Pesaro.  "  No,  certainly/'  said  I  ;  "  your 
kindness,  the  obligations  which  I  have—"  He  would 
not  give  me  time  to  conclude  ;  he  had  business,  he 
embraced  me,  kissed  my  wife's  hand,  and  went  to 
shut  himself  up  in  his  closet.  His  valet-de-chambre 
accompanied  us  to  a  very  comfortable  inn.  I  offered 
him  a  sequin,  which  he  very  nobly  refused,  and  left  us. 
An  hour  afterwards,  my  servant  arrived  in  tears  at 
seeing  himself  free  and  us  haj>py  ;  our  trunk's  had  been 
forced  open,  but  I  had  the  keys.  A  locksmith  soon 
put  them  to  rights. 

I  hired  next  morning  betimes  a  cart  for  my  passage. 
My  wife  and  myself  travelled  post,  and  we  went  to  join 
our  good  friends  at  Rimini.  On  arriving  at  the  first 
advanced  post,  I  was  escorted  to  the  main  guard  of 
Rimini.  The  captain  was  at  table.  On  learning  that 
a  man  who  came  post  was  in  waiting,  he  gave  orders 
for  our  entrance.  The  first  person  whom  I  saw  on 
eutering  was  my  friend  and  countryman  M.  Borsaii, 
who  was  principal  secretary  of  Prince  Lobcowitz,  field- 
marshal  and  general  commandant  of  the  Imperial  army. 
M.  Borsaii  knew  that  I  had  passed  the  winter  at 
Rimini,  and  that  I  left  it  with  the  Spaniards.  I  im- 
parted to  him  my  motive  for  returning,  the  singular 
particulars  of  my  journey,  and  my  intention  of  visiting 
Genoa. 

"  No,"  said  he  ;  "  so  long  as  we  remain  here,  you 
shall  not  go  to  Genoa."  "What  shall  I  do  here?" 
said  I.  "  You  shall  amuse  yourself."  u  That  is  the 
best  business,  I  know  ;  but  still  one  must  be  doing 


230  MEMOIRS    OF 

something.''  ''We  shall  find  you  something  to  do; 
■\ve  have  a  tolerable  theatre  here."  "  Who  are  the 
principal  actors  .'  "  u  Madame  C  a  salin  i  is  a  very  good 
actress:  Madame  Bonaldi  — "  "The  waiting-maid, 
you  mean?"  ••  Yes."  "She  is  my  friend.  "Well,  I 
shall  "be  glad  to  see  her  again/'  While  M.  Borsari 
and  myself  were  carrying  on  this  conversation,  my  wife 
did  nut  feel  the  greatest  ease  in  the  company  of  the 
German  officers,  who  did  not  prostrate  themselves  be- 
fore the  ladies  like  the  Spaniards.  She  made  me  a 
sign  that  the  conversation  was  becoming  wearisome  to 
her.  We  took  our  leave  of  the  company,  and  Borsari 
did  not  quit  us.  My  servant  was  waiting  for  me  at  the 
door,  to  inform  me  that  my  old  lodgings  were  occupied. 
Borsari  promised  that  I  should  have  them  again,  as  he 
c<  >uld  prevail  on  the  officer,  who  was  an  acquaintance 
of  his,  to  relinquish  them  for  others.  In  the  mean  time 
he  accommodated  us  in  his  own  house,  and  gave  us  a 
room  beside  his  own,  which  we  gladly  accepted  and 
occupied  for  three  days. 

Next  day  my  friend  presented  me  to  his  master.  The 
prince  had  heard  of  me.  He  communicated  the  plan 
of  a  fête  to  me,  and  intrusted  me  with  the  management 
of  it.  The  empress-queen,  Maria  Theresa,  had  just 
then  married  the  archduchess,  her  sister,  to  Prince 
Charles  of  Lorraine.  Marshal  Lohcowitz  was  desirous 
of  displaying  rejoicings  at  Rimini  for  this  august  mar- 
riage ;  he  enjoined  me  to  write  a  cantata  :  and  he  left 
the  choice  of  the  composer,  and  the  number  and  quality 
of  the  voices,  to  Borsari  and  myself.  He  left  us  mas- 
ters of  everything,  and  all  that  he  recommended  was 
order  and  promptitude.  There  was  a  music-master  at 
Rimini  named  Ciccio  Maggiore,  by  no  means  of  the 
first  rank  of  composers,  but  who  might  well  pass  in 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  231 

time  of  war.  "We  made  choice  of  him  for  the  music, 
and  ordered  two  male  and  two  female  singers  from 
Bologna.  I  composed  words  to  some  old  music  of  our 
composer,  and  in  a  month's  time  our  cantata  was  exe- 
cuted in  the  theatre  of  the  town,  to  the  satisfaction  of 
the  person  who  proposed  it,  and  of  the  foreign  officers 
and  nobility  of  the  place.  The  composer  and  myself 
Merc  very  liberally  recompensed  by  the  German  general  ; 
hut  the  Neapolitan,  who  was  by  no  means  a  fool,  sug- 
gested beforehand  a  means  which  he  had  perhaps  more 
than  once  put  in  practice  for  the  augmentation  of  our 
profits.  We  hound  up  a  considerable  number  of  copies 
of  our  printed  cantata  :  and  we  went  round  in  a  hand- 
some coach  to  present  copies  to  all  the  officers  of  the 
staff  of  the  different  regiments  in  the  town  and  envi- 
rons. We  received  as  the  fruits  of  this  proceeding  a 
purse  very  decently  filled  with  Venetian  sequins,  Span- 
ish pistoles,  and  Portuguese  pieces,  which  we  divided 
equally  between  us. 

In  the  mean  time  I  received  a  letter  from  Genoa,  ac- 
quainting me  that  a  Venetian  merchant,  without  any 
intention  of  injuring  me,  solicited  my  office  of  consul, 
in  case  I  was  unwilling  to  retain  it,  and  offered  to  do 
the  duty  without  any  emolument,  for  the  sake  of  the 
title,  which,  in  his  situation,  was  of  much  greater  ad- 
vantage to  him  than  it  could  be  to  me.  The  Genoese 
senate  did  not  deprive  me  of  the  office,  but  they  placed 
me  in  the  predicament  of  either  withdrawing,  or  serving 
gratuitously.  I  adopted  the  first  resolution  ;  I  resigned 
the  office  and  never  thought  of  it  afterwards. 

Besides,  I  had  suffered  so  much  that  I  was  glad  to 
have  an  opportunity  of  enjoying  some  tranquillity  fora 
little  time.  I  had  money,  I  had  nothiug  to  do,  and  I 
was  happy. 


232  MEMOIRS    OF 

Rimini  presented  quite  a  different  appearance  from 
that  which  it  exhibited  during;  the  possession  of  it  by 
the  Spaniards.  There  were  amusements  of  every  de- 
scription :  halls,  concerts,  public  games,  brilliant  socie- 
ties. Every  description  of  character,  every  situation 
in  life,  might  find  entertainment  of  some  kind  or  other. 
I  was  fond  of  my  wife,  I  shared  my  pleasures  with  her, 
and  she  followed  me  everywhere. 

The  journey  to  Genoa  was  now  useless  ;  I  was  free, 
and  the  master  of  my  inclinations;  I  possessed  a  suffi- 
ciency of  money,  and  I  was  induced  to  carry  into 
execution  a  project  which  I  had  long  entertained. 

I  wished  to  visit  Tuscany;  to  go  over  it  and  reside 
there  for  some  time.  I  required  to  get  familiarized 
with  the  Florentines  and  Sienese,  who  are  the  living 
texts  of  the  pure  Italian  language.  I  imparted  this 
wish  to  my  wife  ;  I  pointed  out  to  her  that  this  jour- 
ney brought  us  nearer  to  Genoa  ;  she  appeared  satis- 
fied, and  we  determined  on  setting  out  for  Florence. 

My  wife  and  myself  took  post  to  Castrecarro  ;  from 
thence  we  crossed  the  Alps  of  St.  Benedict  on  horse- 
back, and  we  arrived  at  length  in  that  fine  territory  to 
which  we  owe  the  revival  of  letters.  I  will  not  enlarge 
on  the  beauty  and  attractions  of  the  city  of  Florence  ; 
all  writers  and  travellers  do  justice  to  it.  Elegant 
streets,  magnificent  palaces,  delightful  gardens,  superb 
walks,  numerous  societies,  literature  generally  culti- 
vated, multitudes  of  curiosities,  the  arts  patronized, 
talents  held  in  estimation,  a  flourishing  agriculture,  a 
rich  soil,  an  important  commerce,  a  rich  river  run- 
ning through  the  town,  a  considerable  seaport  in  its 
dependencies,  handsome  men  and  beautiful  women, 
gayety,  wit.  strangers  from  all  nations,  amusements  of 
every  description,  —  it  is  a  charming  country. 


CARLO    GOLDONI.  233 

I  passed  four  most  delightful  months  in  this  city, 
where  I  formed  several  very  interesting  acquaintances: 
that  of  the  Senator  Ruseellai.  Auditor  of  the  Jurisdic- 
tion ;  Doctor  Cocchi,  a  systematic  physician  and  an 
agreeable  philosopher;  the  Abbe  Grorri,  an  enlight- 
ened antiquary,  well  versed  in  the  Etruscan  language; 
the  Abbe  Lami,  author  of  a  literary  journal,  the  best 
work  of  the  kind  ever  seen  in  Italy. 

It  was  my  intention  to  pass  the  summer  in  Florence 
and  the  autumn  in  Siena;  but  the  desire  which  I  en- 
tertained of  seeing  and  hearing  the  Chevalier  Perfetti 
determined  me  to  set  out  in  the  beginning  of  the  month 
of  August.  >* 

Perfetti  was  one  of  those  poets,  only  to  he  met  with 
in  Italy,  who  compose  and  deliver  verses  extempore  ; 
hut  he  was  so  superior  to  every  other  person,  and 
added  such  science  and  elegauce  to  the  facility  of  his 
versification,  that  he  gained  the  honor  of  being  crowned 
in  the  eapitol  of  Rome;  an  honor  which  had  never 
been  conferred  on  any  since  the  days  of  Petrarch. 

This  celebrated  man  was  very  aged;  he  was  seldom 
to  be  seen  in  company,  and  still  less  in  public.  I  was 
told  that  he  was  to  make  his  appearance  on  Assump- 
tion Day  at  the  Academy  of  the  Intronati  of  Siena. 
I  set  out  instantly  with  my  faithful  mate;  and  we 
were  admitted  as  strangers  to  a  place  in  the  Academy. 
Perfetti  was  seated  in  a  sort  of  pulpit  ;  one  of  the  accad- 
emicians  addressed  him  ;  and  as  he  could  not  wander 
from  the  subject  of  the  festival  for  which  the  academy 
was  met,  he  proposed  for  argument  the  rejoicings  of 
the  angels  on  the  approach  of  the  immaculate  body  of 
the  Virgin. 

The  poet  sang  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  strophes  in 
the  manner  of  Pindar,   and  nothing  could   be  more 


234  MEMOIRS    OF 

surprising  ;  he  was  by  turns  a  Petrarch,  a  Milton,  and 
a  Rousseau  ;  he  was  Pindar  himself.  I  was  glad  that 
I  had  heard  him,  and  I  paid  him  a  visit  next  day.  My 
acquaintance  with  him  procured  me  a  number  of  others. 
The  society  of  Sienna  was  delightful.  There  was  not 
a  gaming  party  which  was  not  preceded  by  a  literary 
conversation  ;  every  one  read  their  own  compositions, 
or  those  of  others,  and  the  ladies  participated  in  this 
as  well  as  the  men. 


XVII. 

I  intended  to  stay  only  a  few  days  at  Pisa,  and  I 
remained  three  years  there.  I  settled  in  the  place  with- 
out wishing  it,  and  entered  into  engagements  without 
considering  what  I  was  about.  My  comic  genius  was 
not  extinguished,  but  suppressed.  Thalia,  piqued  at 
my  desertion,  despatched  emissaries  from  time  to  time 
to  bring  me  again  to  her  standards.  I  yielded  at  length 
to  the  gentle  violence  of  an  agreeable  seduction,  and  I 
quitted  a  second  time  the  temple  of  Themis  for  that 
of  Apollo. 

I  shall  use  my  utmost  endeavors  to  comprise  in  a 
few  words  the  transactions  of  a  period  of  three  years 
which  alone  would  require  a  volume. 

I  amused  myself  in  examining  the  remarkable  curi- 
osities of  Pisa  the  first  day  after  my  arrival  :  the  ca- 
thedral, which  is  rich  in  statues  and  paintings  ;  the 
singular  steeple,  which  outwardly  seems  to  incline  very 
much  to  one  side,  and  which  appears  straight  in  the 
inside  ;  the  churchyard,  surrounded  with  a  superb 
portico,  and  containing  earth  impregnated  with  alkali 
or  calcareous  salts,  which  reduces  dead  bodies  to  ashes 
in  twenty-four  hours.  But  I  began  to  be  wearied,  for 
I  knew  nobody. 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  235 

Walking  one  day  near  the  castle,  I  observed  a  num- 
ber of  coaches  round  a  gateway,  and  people  entering. 
On  looking  in,  I  saw  a  vast  court  with  a  garden  at  the 
end  of  it,  and  a  number  of  persons  seated  under  a  sort 
of  arbor. 

I  approached  nearer;  I  observed  a  man  in  livery, 
who  had  the  air  and  manners  of  a  man  of  importance. 
I  asked  to  whom  the  place  belonged,  and  why  such  a 
number  of  people  were  then  assembled. 

This  very  polite  and  intelligent  valet  was  not  long  in 
satisfying  my  curiosity.  "  The  assembly  which  you 
sec,"  said  he,  "  is  a  colony  of  the  Arcadi  of  Rome, 
called  la  Colonia  Alfea,  the  JColony  of  Alpheus,  a  very 
celebrated  river  in  Greece,  which  flowed  through  the 
ancient  Pisa  in  Ellis." 

I  inquired  whether  I  could  be  present  at  the  meet- 
ing. u  By  all  means,"  said  the  porter;  who  accom- 
panied me  himself  to  the  entrance  of  the  garden,  and 
then  presented  me  to  one  of  the  valets  of  the  academy, 
by  whom  I  was  seated  in  the  circle.  I  listened  atten- 
tively, and  heard  productions  of  every  description.  I 
applauded  the  bad  as  well  as  the  good. 

Everybody  looked  at  me,  and  seemed  curious  to 
know  who  I  was;  I  was  seized  with  a  desire  to  satisfy 
them.  The  man  who  procured  me  the  place  was  not 
far  from  my  chair.  I  called  him,  and  desired  him  to 
ask  the  person  who  presided  in  the  assembly  whether 
a  stranger  might  be  permitted  to  express  in  verse  the 
satisfaction  which  he  had  experienced.  The  presi- 
dent announced  my  demand  to  the  assembly,  who 
readily  gave  their  consent. 

I  had  a  sonnet  in  my  head,  composed  by  me  in  my 
youth,  under  similar  circumstances;  I  hastily  changed 
a  few  words  to  adapt  it  to  the  occasion.      I  delivered 


236  MEMOIRS   OF 

my  fourteen  verses  with  the  tone  and  inflection  of 
voice  which  set  off  sentiment  and  rhyming  to  the  great- 
est advantage.  The  sonnet  had  all  the  appearance  of 
being  extemporaneous,  and  was  very  much  applauded. 
I  know  not  whether  the  sitting  was  to  have  been 
longer  protracted,  but  all  the  assembly  rose  and  flocked 
round  me. 

Here  was  a  circle  of  acquaintances  formed  at  once  ;  a 
number  of  societies  to  choose  from.  That  of  M.  Fabri 
was  the  most  useful  and  agreeable  for  me.  He  was 
chancellor  of  the  Jurisdiction  of  the  Order  of  St.  Ste- 
phen, and  he  presided  over  the  Assembly  of  the  Arcadi, 
under  the  pastoral  title  of  Guardian. 

I  saw  all  the  Arcadian  shepherds  who  were  that  day 
assembled  in  succession  :  I  dined  with  some  and  supped 
with  others.  The  Pisans  are  very  hind  and  obliging 
to  straugers,  and  they  conceived  a  great  friendship  and 
consideration  for  me.  I  announced  myself  as  a  Vene- 
tian advocate  :  I  told  them  part  of  my  adventures  ; 
they  saw  that  I  was  a  man  without  employment,  but 
capable  of  it  :  they  proposed  to  me  to  resume  the  gown 
which  I  had  quitted,  and  they  promised  me  clients  and 
books.  Any  foreign  licentiate  nay  practise  at  the  bar 
of  Pisa  :  and  I  undertook  boldly  to  plead  as  a  civil  and 
criminal  advocate. 

The  Pisans  were  every  way  as  good  as  their  word, 
and  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  satisfy  them.  I  labored 
night  and  day  :  I  had  more  causes  than  I  could  under- 
take :  I  found  out  the  secret  of  diminishing  the  burden 
to  the  satisfaction  of  my  clients  :  I  demonstrated  to 
them  the  folly  of  litigation,  and  endeavored  to  bring 
about  a  reconciliation  with  adverse  parties.  They 
paid  me  for  my  consultations,  and  Ave  were  all  of  us 
satisfied. 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  237 

Whilst  my  affairs  were  ir«»inir  on  prosperously,  and 
my  el  >set  was  in  such  a  flourishing  state  as  to  inspire 
my  brethren  with  jealousy,  the  devil,  I  believe,  sent  a 
company  of  comedians  to  Pisa.  I  could  not  abstain 
from  seeing  them,  and  I  was  seized  with  a  strong  de- 
sire to  give  them  something  of  mine.  They  were  too 
indifferent  actors  for  me  to  think  of  confiding  a  comedy 
of  character  to  them;  but  I  abandoned  to  them  my 
outline  of  a  comedy  called  "  The  Hundred  and  Four 
Accidents  in  one  Night"  ',  and  it  was  on  this  occasion 
I  experienced  the  disagreeable  circumstances  men- 
tioned in  a  former  part  of  these  memoirs.  Mortified  at 
the  failure  of  my  piece,  £  resolved  nevermore  to  go 
near  the  comedians,  or  to  think  of  comedy.  I  redoub- 
led my  legal  assiduity,  and  I  gained  three  lawsuits 
the  same  month.  I  also  derived  infinite  honor  from  a 
criminal  defence.  A  young  man  of  family  had  robbed 
his  neighbor.  A  door  had  been  forced,  and  the  young 
man  was  on  the  point  of  being  condemned  to  the  gal- 
leys. The  family  was  respectable,  he  was  an  only 
son,  his  sisters  were  unmarried,  all  these  circumstances 
stimulated  me  to  endeavor  to  save  him.  After  satisfy- 
ing the  party  complaining,  I  caused  the  lock  of  his 
apartments  to  be  changed,  so  that  the  key  of  the  other 
party  could  open  it.  The  young  man  had  taken  one 
floor  for  another,  he  had  opened  the  door  by  mistake  ; 
and,  seeing  the  money  spread  out,  the  opportunity  had 
tempted  him. 

I  began  my  memorial  with  the  seventh  verse  of  the 
Twenty-fifth  Psalm  :  "  Delicta  juventutis  me*  et  igno- 
rantias  meas  ne  memineris,  Domine"  (Remember  not 
the  sins  of  my  youth,  nor  my  transgressions,  0  Lord). 
I  strengthened  my  pleading  with  classical  quotations, 
decisions  of  the  Roman  law  and  of  the  Criminal  Cham- 


238  MEMOIRS   OF 

ber  of  Florence,  called  II  Magistral»  degli  Otto  (the 
Tribunal  of  Eight).  I  employed  both  reasoning  and 
pathos  ;  he  was  not  a  criminal  inured  to  crimes,  who 
endeavored  to  palliate  his  guilt,  but  a  rash  and  incon- 
siderate young  man,  who  owned  his  fault,  and  only 
asked  forgiveness  for  the  sake  of  the  honor  of  a  re- 
spectable  father  and  two  interesting  young  women  of 
quality  who  were  fit  for  marriage.  My  youthful  robber 
was  at  length  condemned  to  remain  in  prison  for  three 
months  ;  the  family  were  very  well  satisfied  with  me, 
and  the  criminal  judge  was  pleased  to  compliment  me 
on  the  occasion.  This  attached  me  more  and  more  to 
a  profession  which  was  at  once  productive  of  both 
honor  and  pleasure,  and  a  very  reasonable  profit. 

In  the  midst  of  my  labors  and  occupations,  I  received 
a  letter  from  Venice,  which  threw  all  my  blood  and 
spirits  into  commotion.  It  was  a  letter  from  Sacchi. 
This  comedian  had  returned  to  Italy  ;  he  knew  I  was 
at  Pisa  :  lie  asked  me  for  a  comedy  ;  he  even  sent  me 
the  subject  of  one,  which  he  left  me  at  freedom  to  work 
on  as  I  pleased.  What  a  temptation  for  me  !  Sacchi 
was  an  excellent  actor  ;  comedy  had  been  my  passion  ; 
I  felt  my  old  taste,  my  old  fire  and  enthusiasm,  reviving 
within  me.  The  subject  proposed  was  "  The  Servant 
of  Two  Masters  "  :  and  I  easily  saw  what  might  be  made 
<  f  it  with  such  an  actor  as  Sacchi.  I  was  therefore  de- 
voured with  a  desire  of  trying  my  hand  again  —  I 
knew  not  what  to  do --lawsuits  and  clients  crowded 
on  me  —  but  my  poor  Sacchi  —  but  "  The  Servant  with 
Two  Masters  "  —  Well,  for  this  time  —  but  I  cannot  — 
yes.  I  can.  At  length  I  wrote  in  answer  that  I  would 
undertake  it. 

I  labored  by  day  for  the  bar,  and  by  night  at  my 
play  :   I  finished  the  piece,  and  sent  it  to  Venice.     No- 


CAELO   GOLDOXI.  239 

body  know  the  circumstance  ;  my  wife  only  was  in  the 

secret,  and  she  Buffered  as  much  as  myself.  While  I 
w  irked  at  my  piece,  my  doors  were  closed  at  nightfall, 
and  I  did  not  pass  my  evenings  in  the  coffee-house  of 

the  Arcadi.  The  first  time  I  made  my  appearance 
there,  I  was  reproached  for  my  neglect,  and  I  excused 
myself  on  account  of  my  increase  of  business.  These 
gentlemen  were  very  glad  to  see  me  employed;  hut 
still  they  were  unwilling  that  I  should  forget  the  de- 
lightful amusement  of  poetry. 

M.  Fabri  arrived,  and  was  delighted  to  see  me.  He 
drew  a  large  packet  from  his  pocket,  and  presented  me 
with  two  diplomas  which  he  had  procured  for  me  ;  the 
one  was  my  charter  of  aggregation  to  the  Arcadi  of 
Rome,  under  the  name  of  Polisseno;  the  other  gave 
me  the  investiture  of  the  Fegean  fields.  I  was  on  this 
saluted  by  the  whole  assembly  in  chorus  under  the 
name  of  Polisseno  Fegeio,  and  embraeed  by  them  as  a 
fellow-shepherd  and  brother.  The  Arcadians  are  very 
rich,  as  you  may  perceive,  my  dear  reader  ;  we  possess 
estates  in  Greece  :  we  water  them  with  our  labors  for 
the  sake  of  reaping  branches  of  laurels  ;  and  the  Turks 
sow  them  with  grain  and  plant  them  with  vines,  and 
laugh  at  both  our  titles  and  our  songs. 

Notwithstanding  my  occupations,  I  still  composed 
sonnets,  odes,  and  other  pieces  of  lyrical  poetry  from 
time  to  time  for  the  sittings  of  our  academy.  But 
however  much  the  Pisans  might  be  satisfied  with  me, 
I  was  not  satisfied  myself.  I  must  do  myself  justice,  I 
have  never  been  a  good  poet.  In  point  of  invention 
perhaps  I  have  not  been  defective,  and  the  theatre  is  a 
proof  of  it  :  for  my  genius  took  that  turn. 

Some  time  afterwards  Sacchi  communicated  to  me 
the  success  of  my  piece.     ft  The  Servant  of  Two  Mas- 


240  MEMOIRS   OF 

ters"  was  applauded  and  drew  immense  crowds,  and 
he  sent  me  a  present  which  I  did  not  expect  ;  but  he 
demanded  another  piece  still,  the  subject  of  which  he 
left  entirely  to  me.  He  wished,  however,  as  my  last 
comedy  had  a  comic  foundation,  that  this  should  have 
an  interesting  fable  for  basis,  susceptible  of  sentiment 
and  all  the  pathos  compatible  with  a  comedy.  This 
was  the  language  of  a  man  ;  I  kuew  him  well  ;  I  was 
very  desirous  of  satisfying  him,  and  his  mode  of  acting 
engaged  me  still  more  to  him  ;  but  then  my  closet  — 
this  kept  my  mind  on  the  rack  again.  At  my  last 
piece  I  had  said  only  this  once.  I  had  three  days  to 
answer  him  in.  During  these  three  days,  walking; 
dining,  or  sleeping,  I  thought  of  nothing  but  Sacchi  ; 
aud  I  was  obliged  to  get  this  object  out  of  my  head  to 
be  good  for  anything  else. 

I  composed  on  this  occasion  the  piece  known  in 
France  as  well  as  Italy  under  the  title  of  "  Harlequin's 
Child  Lost  and  Found."  The  success  of  this  trifle  was 
astonishing  ;  it  was  the  means  of  bringing  me  to  Paris, 
and  was  therefore  a  fortunate  piece  for  me  ;  but  it  shall 
never  see  the  light  as  long  as  I  live,  nor  even  have  a 
place  in  my  Italian  theatre.  I  composed  it  at  a  time 
when  my  mind  was  agitated.  It  contained  interesting 
situations  ;  but  I  had  not  sufficient  time  to  prepare 
them  with  that  precision  by  which  good  works  are 
characterized.  There  were  diamonds  perhaps  in  it, 
but  then  they  were  set  in  copper;  some  of  the  scenes 
appeared  evidently  the  work  of  an  author,  but  the  piece 
as  a  whole  seemed  the  production  of  a  scholar.  I  own 
that  the  winding  up  of  the  plot  might  pass  for  a  model 
if  the  comedy  taken  altogether  were  not  disfigured  by 
essential  faults.  Its  principal  defect  is  the  want  of 
probability  throughout.     I  have  always  judged  it  with- 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  241 

» 

out  prepossession,  and  I  have  never  allowed  myself  to 
be  seduced  by  the  applause  lavished  on  it. 

When  my  piece  was  finished.  I  read  it  attentively 
over,  and  perceived  all  the  beauties  which  might  render 

it  agreeable,  and  all  the  defects  with  which  it  abounded. 
I  sent  it,  however,  to  its  place  of  destination.  Italy 
had  just  begun  to  relish  the  first  attempts  at  the  re- 
form projected  by  me.  There  still  were  numbers  of 
partisans  of  the  old  comedy,  and  I  was  certain  that 
mine,  which  did  not  wander  much  from  the  ordinary 
and  beaten  track,  would  afford  pleasure  aud  even  sur- 
prise from  the  mixture  of  comic  and  pathetic  scenes 
which  I  had  artfully  introduced.  I  afterwards  learnt 
the  brilliaut  success  which  it  met  with,  aud  I  was  not 
astonished  ;  but  what  was  my  surprise,  on  arriving  in 
France,  to  find  that  this  piece  drew  crowds,  and  was 
applauded  and  even  extolled  to  the  skies  in  the  Italian 
theatre  of  Paris.  It  must  be  owned  that  we  enter 
theatres  with  very  different  ideas  and  prejudices  ;  and 
the  Frenchmen  applaud  in  the  Italian  theatre  what 
they  would  condemn  in  that  of  their  own  nation. 

After  sending  the  Son  of  Harlequin  to  M.  Sacchi, 
who  was  to  father  it,  I  resumed  my  daily  occupations. 
I  had  several  causes  to  despatch,  and  I  began  with  that 
which  appeared  to  me  most  interesting.  The  client 
whose  cause  I  was  engaged  in  was  only  a  peasant  ; 
but  the  peasants  of  Tuscany  are  in  easy  circumstances, 
always  at  law,  and  pay  well.  They  have  almost  all 
of  them  leases  of  their  possessions  to  themselves,  their 
children,  and  grandchildren.  They  give  a  suitable  sum 
on  entering  into  possession,  and  pay  an  annual  quit- 
rent.  They  consider  these  possessions  as  their  own 
property,  they  are  attached  to  them,  they  improve  them 
carefully,  aud  at   the   end  of  the  lease  the  proprietor 


242  MEMOIRS   OF 

derives  the  advantage.  My  client  had  to  do  with  the 
pri«»r  of  a  convent,  who  wished  the  lease  annulled  on 
the  ground  that  monks  are  always  minors,  and  that  the 
land  might  be  let  to  greater  advantage.  I  discovered 
the  hidden  spring  of  all  this.  It  was  a  young  widow, 
who.  under  the  protection  of  the  reverend  father,  wished 
to  dispossess  the  countryman.  I  composed  a  memorial, 
which  interested  the  nation,  and  in  which  I  proved  the 
importance  of  preserving  leases  for  lives  from  infringe- 
ment. 1  gained  my  cause,  and  derived  infinite  honor 
from  my  pleading.  I  was  obliged  some  days  afterwards 
to  go  to  Florence  to  solicit  an  order  from  the  govern- 
ment for  shutting  up  a  lady  in  a  convent  till  the  termi- 
nation of  the  cause  then  commenced.  She  was  of  age 
and  a  rich  heiress,  and  had  signed  a  contract  of  mar- 
riage with  a  Florentine  gentleman  who  held  a  com- 
mission in  the  Tuscan  army,  and  she  was  desirous  of 
marrying  a  young  man  more  to  her  likintr.  While  my 
client  and  myself  were  in  the  capital,  the  young  lady 
contrived  to  manage  matters  with  her  new  favorite  in 
such  a  way  as  to  elude  our  proceedings.  The  lawsuit 
assumed  another  appearance,  and  threatened  to  become 
serious.  We  listened  to  propositions,  the  lady  was 
rich,  and  the  affair  was  amicably  arranged. 

On  returning  from  Florence.  I  was  obliged  to  go  to 
Lucca  in  another  suit.  I  was  glad  to  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  seeing  that  republic,  which  is  neither  extensive 
nor  powerful,  but  which  is  rich,  agreeable,  and  very 
wisely  governed.  I  took  my  wife  along  with  me,  and 
we  passed  six  days  there  in  the  most  agreeable  manner 
in  the  world.  It  was  the  beginning  of  May.  The  day 
of  the  Invention  of  the  Holy  Cross  is  the  principal  fes- 
tival of  this  town.  In  the  cathedral  there  is  an  image 
of  our  Saviour,  called  II  Volto  Santo,  which  is  exposed 


CARLO   GOLDONL  24^> 

that  day  with  the  most  brilliant  pomp,  and  such  a  num- 
ber of  voices  and  musical  instruments  as  I  have  never 
seen  equalled  either  at  Venice  or  Borne.  A  devout  na- 
tive of  Lucca  bequeathed  a  sum  of  money  for  receiving 
in  the  cathedral  on  that  day  every  musician  who  comes 
forward,  and  to  pay  them  not  according  to  their  talents, 
hut  the  distance  from  which  they  come,  and  the  recom- 
pense is  fixed  at  so  much  per  League  or  mile. 

When  my  business  was  over,  and  my  curiosity  grat- 
ified, I  quitted  with  regret  that  charming  country, 
which,  under  the  protection  of  the  emperor,  pro  tem- 
pore, enjoys  the  most  tranquil  liberty,  and  pos» 
the  most  salutary  and  exact  police.  I  was  glad  to  see 
and  show  to  my  wife  another  very  interesting  part 
of  Tuscany.  We  proceeded  through  the  territories  of 
Pescia,  Pistoia,  and  Prato.  It  is  impossible  to  see  hills 
with  a  better  exposure,  estates  better  cultivated,  or 
more  luxuriant  and  delightful  fields.  If  Italy  be  the 
garden  of  Europe,  Tuscany  is  the  garden  of  Italy. 

A  few  days  after  my  return  to  Pisa,  my  wife's  eldest 
brother  arrived  at  Genoa  ;  he  was  sent  by  his  parents 
to  claim  performance  of  my  engagement  to  visit  them. 
I  had  been  twice  absent  on  business,  and  I  could  not 
suffer  myself  to  be  absent  a  third  time  merely  on  pleas- 
ure. My  wife  said  nothing,  but  I  knew  the  desire  which 
she  had  to  see  her  family,  and  I  foresaw  the  chagrin  of 
my  brother-in-law,  if  he  had  been  obliged  to  return 
home  alone.  I  arranged  matters  to  the  satisfaction  of 
all  three;  my  wife  accompanied  her  brother  to  Genoa, 
and  I  remained  by  myself  peaceably  occupied  with  the 
business  of  my  closet.  I  had  causes  in  every  tribunal, 
clients  in  every  rank  of  life,  the  first-rate  nobility,  the 
richest  citizens,  merchants  of  the  highest  credit,  parish 
priests,  monks,  rich  farmers,  and  even  one  of  my  breth- 


244  MEMOIRS    OF 

ren,  who,  being  implicated  in  a  criminal  action,  made 
choice  of  me  for  his  defender.  Tims  the  whole  town  was 
on  my  side  :  at  least  anybody  would  have  supposed  so, 
as  I  myself  most  certainly  did  believe  it  ;  but  I  soon 
perceived  that  I  was  grossly  mistaken.  Through  friend- 
ship and  consideration  I  had  become  naturalized  in  the 
hearts  of  individuals  :  but  I  was  still  a  stranger  when 
these  same  individuals  met  in  a  body.  At  this  time  an 
old  advocate  of  Pisa  departed  this  life,  who,  according 
to  the  custom  of  the  country,  was  nominated  the  de- 
fender of  several  religious  bodies,  of  corporations  and 
different  houses  in  the  town,  all  which  brought  in  to 
him,  in  corn,  oil,  and  money,  a  very  respectable  sum, 
which  defrayed  the  expenses  of  housekeeping.  At  his 
death,  I  asked  for  all  these  vacant  places,  that  I  might 
obtain  some  of  them  ;  but  they  were  all  given  to  Pisans, 
and  the  Venetian  was  excluded.  I  was  told  by  way  of 
consolation,  that  I  had  only  been  two  years  and  a  half 
at  Pisa  ;  that  my  adversaries  had,  for  four  years  at  least, 
been  taking  steps  for  succeeding  the  deceased  ;  that  en- 
gagements had  been  entered  into  on  the  subject  ;  and 
that  the  very  first  opportunity  I  should  be  satisfied. 
All  this  might  be  very  true;  but  it  was  singular  that, 
out  of  twenty  places,  I  could  not  procure  oue.  This 
event  threw  me  into  ill-humor,  and  indisposed  me  to 
such  a  degree  that  I  no  longer  looked  on  my  employ- 
ment in  any  other  light  than  as  a  casual  and  precarious 
mode  of  subsistence. 

One  day,  as  I  was  busied  in  reflections  of  this  nature, 
a  stranger,  desirous  of  speaking  to  me,  was  announced. 
I  observed  a  man  nearly  six  feet  high  and  broad  in  pro- 
portion, crossing  the  hall,  with  a  cane  in  his  hand,  and 
a  round  hat,  in  the  English  fashion.  He  entered  with 
measured  step  into  my  closet.     I  rose.     He  made  a 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  245 

picturesque  gesticulation  by  way  of  preventing  me  from 
putting  myself  under  any  constraint.  He  advanced, 
and  I  requested  him  to  be  seated.  Our  conversation 
began  in  this  way  :  — 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  "I  have  not  the  honor  of  being"known 
to  you;  but  you  must  be  acquainted  with  my  father  and 
uncle  at  Venice.  I  am  your  humble  servant,  Darbes." 
"  What  !  M.  Darbes,  the  son  of  the  director  of  the  post 
of  Friuli;  the  boy  who  was  supposed  lost,  who  was  so 
much  sought  after,  and  so  much  regretted?"  "Yes, 
sir,  that  same  prodigal,  who  has  never  yet  prostrated 
himself  before  his  father."  "  Why  do  you  defer 
affording  him  that  consolation?"  "My  family,  my 
relations,  my  country,  shall  never  see  me,  till  I  return 
crowned  with  laurels."  "What  is  your  profession, 
sir  ?  " 

He  rose,  and  struck  his  round  belly  with  his  hand, 
and  in  a  tone  which  was  a  compound  of  haughtiness 
and  drollery,  said  to  me,  "  Sir,  I  am  an  actor."  "  Every 
description  of  talent  is  estimable,"  said  I,  "  if  he  who 
possesses  it  has  attained  distinction."  "  I  am,"  he  re- 
plied, "the  pantaloon  of  the  company  now  at  Leghorn; 
I  am  not  the  least  distinguished  of  the  company,  and 
the  public  is  pleased  to  flock  to  the  pieces  where  I  make 
my  appearance.  Medebac,  our  manager,  travelled  a 
hundred  leagues  in  quest  of  me;  I  bring  no  dishonor 
on  my  relations,  my  country,  or  my  profession;  and 
without  boasting,  sir  [striking  his  belly  again  as  be- 
fore], Garelli  is  dead,  and  Darbes  has  supplied  his 
place." 

I  wished  to  compliment  him,  but  he  threw  himself 
into  a  comic  posture,  which  set  me  a  laughing  and 
prevented  me  from  continuing.  "It  is  not  through 
vanity,"  he  resumed,  "  that  I  make  a  boast  of  my  ad- 


246  MEMOIRS   OF 

vantages  at  present  to  you  ;  I  am  an  actor,  and  I  am 
speaking  to  an  author  whose  assistance  I  want." 
"You  want  my  assistance?"  "Yes,  sir,  I  come  to 
ask  a  comedy  from  you  ;  I  have  promised  my  com- 
panions to  obtain  a  comedy  from  Goldoni,  and  I  am 
desirous  of  keeping  my  word." 

"  You  wish  one?"  said  I,  smiling.  "  YTes,  sir,  I 
know  you  by  reputation;  you  are  as  kind  as  you  are 
able,  and  I  know  you  will  not  refuse  me."  "  I  am 
occupied  with  business,  and  cannot  gratify  you."  "  I 
respect  your  occupations:  you  will  compose  the  piece 
at  your  leisure,  when  you  frel  inclined." 

He  laid  hold  of  my  box  while  we  were  talking,  took 
snuff  from  it,  slipped  into  it  several  golden  ducats,  shut 
it  again,  and  threw  it  down  on  the  table  with  one  of 
those  gesticulations  which  indicate  a  wish  to  conceal 
what  one  would  be  very  glad  to  have  discovered.  I 
opened  my  box  and  refused  to  accept  the  money. 
"  Do  not  be  displeased,  I  earnestly  beg  of  you,"  said 
he  ;  "  this  is  merely  to  account  of  the  paper."  I  wished 
to  return  the  money  ;  this  gave  rise  to  various  postures 
and  bows  ;  he  rose,  withdrew,  gained  the  door  and  dis- 
appeared. 

What  was  to  be  done  in  such  a  case  ?  I  adopted, 
I  think,  the  best  resolution  the  affair  admitted  of.  I 
wrote  to  Darbes  that  he  might  rely  on  the  piece  which 
he  had  demanded  from  me  ;  and  I  requested  to  be  in- 
formed whether  he  wished  it  for  a  pantaloon  in  a  mask, 
or  without  one.  Darbes  soon  answered  me  ;  he  could 
not  throw  any  gesticulations  or  contortions  into  his 
letter,  but  it  was  singular  in  its  way.  "  I  am  to  have 
then,"  said  he,  '•  a  comedy  from  Goldoni.  It  will  be 
the  lance  and  buckler,  with  which  I  shall  challenge  all 
the  theatres   of  the  world  —     How  fortunate  I  am  ! 


CARLO   GOLDONL  247 

I  betted  a  hundred  ducats  with  our  manager,  that  I 
should  obtain  a  piece  from  Goldoni  ;  if  I  gain  the  bet, 
the  manager  must  pay,  and  the  piece  is  mine.  I  am 
young,  and  not  yet  sufficiently  known;  but  I  will 
challenge  Rubini,  the  pantaloon  of  St.  Luke,  and  Cor- 
rini,  the  pantaloon  of  St.  Samuel  in  Venice  ;  I  will 
attack  Ferramonti  at  Bologna,  Pasini  at  Milan,  Bel- 
lotti,  known  by  the  name  of  Tiziani,  in  Tuscany,  and 
even  Golinetti  in  his  retreat,  and  Garelli  in  his  grave. " 

He  concluded  by  telling  me  that  he  wished  his 
character  to  be  that  of  a  young  man  without  a  mask, 
and  he  pointed  out  as  a  model  an  old  comedy  of  art, 
called  "Pantalon  Paroncin." 

This  word  paroncin,  both  in  the  literal  translation 
and  the  character,  corresponds  exactly  with  the  French 
word  petàt-maîùre  ;  for  parou,  in  the  Venetian  dialect, 
is  the  same  aspatrone  in  Tuscan,  and  maître  in  French  ; 
and  paroncin  is  the  diminutive  of  paron,  as  petit-  maître 
is  the  diminutive  of  maître. 

lu  my  time  the  Venetian  paroncini  played  the  same 
part  at  Venice  as  the  petit-maîtres  at  Paris  ;  but  every- 
thing changes. 

There  are  now  none  in  France,  and  perhaps  they 
exist  no  more  in  Italy. 

I  composed  a  piece  for  Darbes  under  the  title  of 
"  Tonin  Bella  Grazia,"  which  may  be  translated,  "  The 
Elegant  Antonio." 

I  finished  my  work  in  three  weeks,  and  carried  it 
myself  to  Leghorn ,  a  town  with  which  I  was  well  ac- 
quainted, being  but  four  leagues  from  Pisa,  and  where 
I  had  friends,  clients,  and  correspondents.  Darbes,  to 
whom  I  sent  notice  of  my  arrival,  called  upon  me  at 
the  inn  where  I  lodged  ;  I  read  over  my  piece  to  him  ; 
he  appeared  very  well  satisfied  with  it,  and  with  many 


248  MEMOIRS   OF 

ceremonies,  bows,  and  broken  words,  be  very  gallantly 
gave  me  tbe  bet  which  he  had  gained,  and,  to  avoid 
my  thanking  him,  ran  out  instantly,  under  the  pretext 
of  communicating  the  piece  to  the  manager. 


XVIII. 

After  my  conversation  with  Darbes,  I  looked  at 
my  watch.  It  was  two  o'clock.  I  could  not,  at  such 
a  late  hour,  break  in  on  any  of  my  friends,  and  I  gave 
orders  to  have  something  brought  me  from  the  kitchen 
of  my  inn.  As  they  were  covering  the  table.  M.  Me- 
debac  was  announced.  On  entering,  he  overpowered 
me  with  politeness,  and  invited  me  to  dine  with  him. 
The  soups  were  already  on  my  table,  and  I  thanked 
him.  Darbes,  who  accompanied  the  manager,  took- 
my  hat  and  cane,  and  presented  them  to  me.  Medebac 
insisted  on  his  part  ;  Darbes  laid  hold  of  my  left  arm 
and  the  other  by  the  right  :  they  locked  me  between 
them,  dragged  me  along,  and  I  was  forced  to  accom- 
pany them. 

On  entering  the  manager's,  Madame  Medebac  came 
to  receive  us  at  the  door  of  her  antechamber.  This 
actress,  as  estimable  on  account  of  her  propriety  of 
conduct  as  her  talents,  was  young  and  handsome.  She 
received  me  in  the  most  respectful  and  gracious  manner. 
We  sat  down  to  a  very  respectable  family  dinner, 
which  was  served  up  with  the  utmost  order  and  neat- 
ness. They  had  advertised  for  that  day  a  comedy  of 
art  ;  but,  by  way  of  compliment  to  me,  they  changed 
the  bills,  and  gave  out  "  Griselda"  ;  adding,  "  A  tragedy 
by  M.  Goldoni."  Although  this  piece  was  not  alto- 
gether mine,  my  self-love  was  flattered,  and  I  went  to 
see  it  in  the  box  destine  i  for  me. 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  249 

I  was  extremely  well  pleased  with  Madame  Mede- 
bac,  who  played  the  part  of  Griselda.  Her  natural 
gentleness,  her  pathetic  voice,  her  intelligence,  her 
action,  rendered  her  altogether  an  interesting  object  in 
my  eyes,  and  raised  her  as  an  actress  above  all  whom 
I  had  ever  known.  I  complimented  Madame  Medebac 
and  her  husband.  This  man,  who  was  acquainted 
with  my  works,  and  to  whom  I  had  confided  the  morti- 
fications experienced  by  me  at  Pisa,  made  a  very  in- 
teresting proposal  to  me  a  few  days  afterwards.  I 
must  mention  it  to  my  reader  ;  for  it  was  in  conse- 
quence of  this  proposal  of  Medebac  that  I  renounced 
the  profession  followed  by  me  for  three  years,  and  that 
I  resumed  my  old  occupation. 

"  If  you  are  determined  on  quitting  Tuscany,"  said 
Medebac  one  day  to  me  ;  "if  you  mean  to  return  to  the 
bosoms  of  your  countrymen,  your  relations,  and  friends, 
I  have  a  project  to  propose  to  you,  which  will  at  least 
prove  to  you  the  value  which  I  set  on  your  person  and 
talents.  There  are  two  play-houses  at  Venice,"  con- 
tinued he;  "I  engage  to  direct  a  third,  and  to  take  a 
lease  of  it  for  five  or  six  years,  if  you  will  do  me  the 
honor  of  laboring  for  me." 

The  proposition  appeared  to  me  flattering  ;  and  it 
required  no  great  offer  to  turn  the  scale  in  favor  of 
comedy.  I  thanked  the  manager  for  the  confidence 
he  reposed  in  me  ;  I  accepted  the  proposition  ;  we 
made  an  agreement,  and  the  contract  was  instantly 
drawn  up.  I  did  not  sign  it  at  that  moment,  for  I 
wished  to  communicate  it  to  my  wife,  who  had  not 
yet  returned.  I  knew  her  docility,  but  I  owed  her 
my  esteem  and  friendship.  When  she  arrived,  she 
approved  of  it,  and  I  sent  my  signature  to  Leghorn. 

My  muse  and  pen  were  thus  again  at  the  disposal  of 


250  MEMOIRS   OF 

an  individual.  A  French  author  will,  perhaps,  think 
this  a  singular  engagement.  A  man  of  letters,  it  will 
be  said,  ought  to  be  free,  and  to  despise  servitude  and 
constraint.  If  this  author  be  in  easy  circumstances 
like  Voltaire,  or  cynical  like  Rousseau,  I  have  nothing 
to  say  to  him  ;  but  if  he  be  one  of  those  who  have  no 
objection  to  share  in  the  profits  derived  from  the  sale 
of  their  works,  I  beseech  him  to  have  the  goodness  to 
listen  to  my  justification.  The  highest  price  of  ad- 
mission to  the  theatre  in  Italy  does  not  exceed  the  sum 
of  a  Roman  paoli,  ten  French  sous.  All  those,  it  is 
true,  who  go  to  the  boxes,  pay  the  same  sum  in  enter- 
ing; but  the  boxes  belong  to  the  proprietor  of  the  thea- 
tre, and  the  receipts  cannot  be  considerable  ;  so  that  the 
author's  share  is  hardly  worth  the  looking  after.  Men 
of  talents  in  France  have  another  resource  ;  gratifica- 
tions from  the  court,  pensions,  and  royal  presents. 
But  there  is  nothing  of  this  kind  whatever  in  Italy  ; 
and  hence  the  description  of  people  the  best  qualified 
perhaps  for  mental  excellence  remain  sunk  in  lethargy 
and  idleness. 

I  have  sometimes  been  tempted  to  look  upon  myself 
as  a  phenomenon.  I  abandoned  myself,  without  re- 
flection, to  the  comic  impulse  by  which  I  was  stimu- 
lated; I  have,  on  three  or  four  occasions,  lost  the 
most  favorable  opportunities  for  improving  my  situa- 
tion, and  always  relapsed  into  my  old  propensity  ;  but 
the  thought  of  this  does  not  disturb  me  ;  for  though 
in  any  other  situation,  I  might  perhaps  have  been  in 
easier  circumstances,  I  should  never  have  been  so 
happy.  I  was  very  pleased  with  my  new  situation, 
and  my  agreement  with  Medebac.  My  pieces  were  to 
be  received  without  any  power  of  rejection,  and  to  be 
paid  for  without  waiting  the  result.     One  représenta- 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  251 

tion  was  the  same  to  me  as  fifty  ;  and  if  I  bestowed 
more  attention  and  zeal  in  the  composition  of  my 
works,  to  insure  their  success,  I  was  stimulated  solely 
by  the  love  of  glory  and  honor. 

I  connected  myself  with  Medebac  in  the  mouth  of 
September,  1746,  and  I  was  to  join  him  at  Mantua  in 
the  month  of  April  in  the  following  year.  I  had  thus 
six  months'  time  to  arrange  my  affairs  at  Pisa,  to  de- 
spatch the  causes  in  hand,  to  give  up  others  which  I 
could  not  retain,  to  take  leave  of  my  judges  and  clients, 
and  to  bid  a  poetical  adieu  to  the  Academy  of  the 
Arcadi.  I  discharged  every  duty,  and  set  out  after 
Easter.  Before  quitting  Tuscany,  I  was  anxious  once 
more  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  city  of  Florence,  the  capital. 
In  taking  leave  of  my  acquaintances,  it  was  proposed 
to  me  to  visit  the  Academy  of  the  Apatisti.  It  was 
not  unknown  to  me  ;  but  I  wished  to  see  that  day 
the  sibillone,  a  sort  of  literary  amusement  which  takes 
place  from  time  to  time,  and  which  I  had  never  yet 
seen.  The  sibillone,  or  great  sibyl,  is  a  child  of  only 
ten  or  twelve  years  of  age,  who  is  placed  on  a  tribune 
in  the  middle  of  the  assembly.  Any  one  of  the  persons 
repsent  puts  a  question  to  the  young  sibyl  ;  the  child 
must  pronounce  some  word  on  the  occasion  which 
becomes  the  oracle  of  the  prophetess,  and  the  answer 
to  the  proposed  question.  These  answers  of  a  boy, 
without  time  for  reflection,  are  in  general  destitute  of 
common-sense;  but  an  academician  beside  the  trib- 
une rises  up,  and  maintains  that  the  sibillone  has 
returned  a  very  proper  answer,  and  undertakes  to  give 
an  immediate  interpretation  of  the  oracle. 

That  the  reader  may  have  some  idea  of  the  Italian 
imagination  and  boldness,  I  shall  give  some  account 
of  the  question,  the  answer,  and  the  interpretation,  the 
day  when  I  was  present. 


252  MEMOIRS   OF 

A  person  who,  like  myself,  was  a  stranger,  asked  the 
sibyl  to  inform  him  why  women  weep  with  greater. ease 
and  more  frequently  than  men.  The  only  answer 
which  the  sibyl  returned  was  straw  ;  and  the  interpreter, 
addressing  the  author  of  the  question,  maintained  that 
nothing  could  be  more  decisive  or  satisfactory  than 
the  oracle.  This  learned  academician,  who  was  a  tall 
and  lusty  abbé  of  about  forty,  with  a  sonorous  aud 
agreeable  voice,  spoke  for  nearly  three  quarters  of  an 
hour.  He  went  into  an  analysis  of  different  sleuder 
plants,  and  proved  that  straw  surpassed  them  all  in 
fragility  ;  he  passed  from  straw  to  women  ;  and  in  a 
mauner  equally  rapid  and  luminous,  entered  into  an 
anatomical  view  of  the  human  body.  He  explained 
the  source  of  tears  in  the  two  sexes.  He  proved  the 
delicacy  of  fibres  in  the  one,  and  the  resistance  in  the 
other.  He  concluded  with  a  piece  of  flattery  to  the 
ladies  who  were  present,  in  assigning  the  prerogatives 
of  sensibility  to  weakness,  and  took  care  to  avoid  say- 
ing anything  of  their  having  tears  at  command. 

I  own  that  this  man  surprised  me.  It  was  impossi- 
ble to  display  more  erudition  and  precision  in  a  matter 
which  did  not  seem  susceptible  of  it.  These  are  tricks, 
I  am  willing  to  admit,  something  in  the  taste  of  the 
masterpiece  of  an  unknown  author  (chef -cV œuvre  d'un 
inconnu)  ;  but  it  is  not  the  less  true  that  such  talents 
are  rare  and  estimable,  and  that  they  only  want  en- 
couragement to  rise  to  a  level  with  many  others,  and 
carry  those  who  possess  them  down  to  posterity. 

On  returning  to  my  lodgings  the  same  day,  I  found 
a  letter  from  Pisa,  informing  me  that  my  trunks  were 
at  the  custom-house  of  Florence.  I  sent  them  off 
next  day  for  Bologna,  and  arrived  at  Mantua  towards 
the  end  of  April. 


CARLO   GOLDONI.  253 

Medebac,  who  impatiently  expected  me,  received  me 
with  joy,  and  procured  me  lodgings  with  Madame  Bal- 
Letti.  She  was  an  old  actress,  who,  under  the  name 
of  Fravollctta,  had  excelled  in  the  characters  of  wait- 
ing-maids. She  had  left  the  Stage,  and  was  in  easy 
circumstances,  and,  at  the  age  of  eighty-five,  still  pos- 
sessed remains  of  beauty  and  an  attractive  wit.  She 
was  mother-in-law  to  Miss  Silvia,  the  delight  of  the 
Italian  theatre  at  Paris,  and  mother-in-law  to  M.  Bal- 
letti,  who  distinguished  himself  in  Venice  as  a  dancer, 
and  afterwards  in  France  as  an  actor. 

I  passed  a  month  at  Mantua  very  uncomfortably, 
and  almost  always  confined  to  bed.  The  air  of  that 
marshy  country  did  not  agree  with  me.  I  gave  the 
manager  two  new  comedies  composed  by  me  for  him. 
He  appeared  satisfied  with  them,  and  allowed  me  to  go 
to  Modena,  where  he  was  to  pass  the  summer.  I  was 
wise  in  leaving  Mantua,  for  I  felt  relieved  on  reaching 
the  second  station,  and  I  arrived  at  Modena  in  perfect 
health. 

The  war  was  now  over.  The  Infante  Don  Philip 
was  in  possession  of  the  duchies  of  Parma,  Piacenza, 
and  Guastalla.  The  Duke  of  Modena  had  returned  to 
his  dominions  ;  the  ducal  bank  proposed  an  arrange- 
ment with  the  annuitants  ;  and  I  was  glad  to  have  an 
opportunity  of  attending  myself  to  my  own  interests. 

Towards  the  end  of  July  Medebac  and  his  company 
arrived  at  Modena,  where  I  gave  him  a  third  piece  ;  but 
I  kept  my  novelties  for  Venice.  I  had  there  laid  the 
foundation  of  an  Italian  theatre,  and  it  was  there  I  in- 
tended to  labor  in  the  construction  of  that  new  edifice. 
I  had  no  rivals  to  contend  with,  but  I  had  prejudices 
to  overcome. 

If  my  reader  has  had  the  complaisance  to  follow  me 


254 


MEMOIRS   OF 


thus  far,  the  matter  which  I  have  now  to  offer  to  his 
attention  will  engage  him  perhaps  to  continue  his 
kindness  towards  me.  My  style  will  be  always  the 
same,  without  elegance  and  without  pretension,  but 
animated  by  zeal  for  my  art,  and  inspired  by  a  love  of 
truth. 


PART    THE     SECOND. 


I. 


„  HAT  a  satisfaction  for  me  to  return  at  the  end 
RÇ    of  five  years  to  my  country,  winch  had  always 
Z2    been  dear  to  me,  mid  which  improved  in  my 
eyes  after  every  absence.      After  my  last  de- 
parture from  Venice,  my  mother  took  apartments  for 


herself  and  sister  in  the  court  of  St.  George, 


the 


neighborhood  of  St.  Mark.  The  quarter  was  beautiful, 
and  the  situation  tolerable  ;  and  I  joined  my  dear 
mother,  who  always  caressed  me,  and  never  com- 
plained of  me.  She  questioned  me  respecting  my 
brother,  and  I  made  similar  inquiries  of  her  ;  neither 
of  us  kuew  what  had  become  of  him.  My  mother  be- 
lieved him  dead,  and  shed  tears  ;  but  I  knew  hiin 
somewhat  better,  and  was  certain  that  he  would  one  day 
return  to  be  a  burden  to  me.    In  this  I  was  not  deceived. 

Medebac  had  taken  the  theatre  of  St.  Angelo,  which 
was  not  over  large,  was  less  fatiguing  to  the  actors, 
and  contained  a  sufficient  number  of  people  to  produce 
adequate  receipts.  I  have  forgotten  the  piece  which 
was  represented  at  the  opening  of  the  theatre.  I 
only  know  that  the  company,  being  strangers,  had  to 
straggle  with  very  able  rivals,  and  had  the  greatest 
difficulty  in  obtaining  protectors  and  partisans. 

Darbes,  who  acted  the  Venetian  characters,  had  al- 


256  'MEMOIRS   OF 

ways  been  well  received  and  even  applauded  hitherto 
in  them  :  hut  he  had  never  yet  played  without  a  mash, 
and  the  absence  of  this  was  precisely  what  was  most 
calculated  t<>  set  him  off  to  advantage.  He  durst  nut 
act  in  the  characters  composed  by  me  for  Golinetti  in 
the  theatre  of  St.  Samuel.  In  this  respect  I  thought 
him  quite  right  ;  for  first  impressions  are  not  easily 
effaced,  and  comparisons  ought,  as  far  as  possible, 
carefully  to  be  avoided.  Darbes  could  only  therefore 
appear  in  the  Venetian  piece  which  I  had  composed 
for  him.  I  was  afraid  that  "The  Elegant  Antonio" 
would  not  equal  the  "  Cortesan  Veneziano/'  but  we 
could  only  make  a  trial. 

We  began  to  put  it  in  rehearsal.  The  actors  were 
quite  overcome  with  laughter,  and  I  laughed  heartily 
myself.  We  thought  the  public  would  follow  our  ox- 
ample  ;  but  the  public,  which  is  said  to  have  no  opinion 
of  its  own,  was  quite  firm  and  decided  against  this 
piece  at  its  first  representation,  and  I  was  obliged  in- 
stantly to  withdraw  it.  In  similar  circumstancas  I  have 
never  been  disgusted  either  with  the  spectators  or 
actors,  but  have  always  begun  coolly  to  examine  my- 
self. I  saw  this  time  that  I  was  clearly  in  the  wrong. 
This  unfortunate  comedy  is  in  print.  So  much  the 
worse  for  me  and  for  those  who  take  the  trouble  of 
reading  it.  I  shall  only  observe,  in  atonement  for 
my  fault,  that  when  I  wrote  this  comedy,  I  had  been 
four  years  out  of  practice  ;  my  head  was  occupied 
with  my  professional  employment,  I  was  uneasy  in 
mind  and  in  bad  humor,  and,  to  add  to  my  mis- 
fortune, it  was  approved  of  by  my  actors.  We  were 
sharers  in  the  folly,  and  we  were  equal  sharers  in 
the  loss. 

Poor  Darbes  was  very  much  mortified,   and  it  be- 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  257 

came  necessary  to  console  him.  I  instantly  began  a 
now  piece  of  the  same  sort,  and  in  the  mean  time  I 
made  him  appear  with  his  mask  in  a  new  comedy 
which  did  him  great  honor  and  was  eminently  suc- 
cessful. This  was  "The  Prudent  Man."  a  piece  in 
three  acts,  and  in  prose.  This  comedy  had  the  great- 
est  success  in  Venice.  The  declamations  with  which 
it  abounded  were  nut  in  the  taste  of  good  comedy,  "but 
Darhes  could  not  possibly  have  been  more  at  his  ease 
in  displaying  the  superiority  of  his  talents  in  the  differ- 
ent shades  which  he  had  to  express.  Nothing  more 
was  necessary  to  procure  him  the  general  character  of 
the  most  accomplished  actor  then  on  the  stage.  But 
to  establish  his  reputation  still  more,  it  was  necessary 
to  exhibit  him  in  a  situation  where  he  could  shine  with 
his  countenance  unmasked.  This  was  my  project,  and 
the  principal  aim  I  had  in  view.  While  Darhes  was 
in  the  enjoyment  of  the  applause  he  derived  from  his 
Prudent  Man,  I  lahored  at  a  piece  for  him  entitled 
"  The  Venetian  Twins." 

I  had  had  sufficient  time  and  opportunities  to  exam- 
ine into  the  different  personal  characters  of  my  actors. 
In  Darhes  I  perceived  two  opposite  and  habitual  move- 
ments in  his  figure  and  his  actions.  At  one  time  he 
was  the  gayest,  the  most  brilliant  and  lively  man  in 
the  world  ;  and  at  another  he  assumed  the  air,  the  man- 
ners, and  conversation  of  a  simpleton  and  a  blockhead. 
These  changes  took  place  quite  naturally,  and  without 
reflection.  This  discovery  suggested  to  me  the  idea 
of  making  him  appear  under  these  different  aspects  in 
the  same  play.  The  play  was  extolled  to  the  very 
skies.  The  incomparable  acting  of  Darhes  contributed 
infinitely  to  its  success.  His  glory  and  his  joy  were  at 
their  height.     The  director  was  not   less  pleased  to 


258  MEMOIRS   OF 

witness  the  complete  success  of  his  undertaking,  and  I 
had  my  share  also  in  the  general  satisfaction  in  seeing 
myself  caressed  and  applauded  a  great  deal  more  than 
I  deserved. 

I  had  given  three  new  pieces  since  my  return  to 
Venice  without  having  my  tranquillity  disturbed  by 
any  criticism  ;  but  during  the  Christmas  holidays, 
when  those  who  had  no  employment  were  deprived  of 
the  amusement  of  the  theatres,  several  pamphlets 
against  the  author  and  the  players  made  their  appear- 
ance. It  was  the  company  of  Medebac  which  was 
principally  aimed  at.  They  called  it  the  Company  of 
Rope-Dancers  ;  and  these  expressions  were  the  more 
malicious,  as  they  had  some  sort  of  truth  for  their 
foundation.  Madame  Medebac  was  the  daughter  of  a 
rope-dancer.  The  uncle  who  acted  Brighella  had  been 
clown  ;  and  Darbes  was  married  to  the  sister-in-law 
of  the  principal  of  these  tumblers.  This  family,  how- 
ever, though  educated  in  a  perilous  and  disreputable 
situation,  were  most  exemplary  in  their  morals,  and 
were  nowise  defective  in  point  of  education.  Medebac, 
who  was  a  good  actor,  and  the  friend  and  countryman 
of  these  people,  observing  that  several  of  them  pos- 
sessed talents  for  comedy,  advised  them  to  change 
their  situation.  To  this  they  agreed,  and  Medebac 
took  upon  himself  to  form  them.  The  new  actors 
made  the  most  rapid  progress  under  him,  and  in  a  short 
time  were  enabled  to  make  head  against  the  oldest  and 
most  respectable  companies  in  Italy.  Was  it  fair  to 
reproach  this  company,  which  had  always  behaved  most 
respectably,  and  now  had  attained  great  proficiency, 
with  their  former  profession  ?  This  was  pure  malice, 
and  proceeded  from  the  jealousy  of  their  rivals.  They 
were  dreaded  by  the  other  theatres  of  Venice,  who, 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  259 

unable  to  ruin  thorn,  were  mean  enough  to  treat  them 
with  contempt.  When  I  first  saw  these  co  sm  indaao 
Leghorn,  I  was  as  much  attached  to  them  on  account 
of  their  talents  as  their  conduct  ;  and  I  endeavored  to 
raise  them,  through  their  own  care  and  my  efforts,  at 
that  degree  of  consideration  which  they  every  way 
merited.  But  all  these  efforts  of  the  enemies  of  Mede- 
bac  were  vain.  The  comedians  gained  every  day  a 
■firmer  footing  ;  and  the  play  which  I  am  about  to  men- 
tion completely  established  their  credit  and  enabled 
them  to  enjoy  the  most  perfect  tranquillity. 

We  opened  the  carnival  of  the  year  1748  by  the 
"  Vedova  Scaltra"  (The  Goming  Widow).  Several 
of  my  plays  had  been  very  fortunate,  but  none  of  them 
equalled  this.  It  had  thirty  successive  representations  ; 
and  was  everywhere  represented  with  the  same  suc- 
cess. The  commencement  of  my  reformation  could  not 
be  more  brilliant.  I  had  another  play  still  to  give  for 
the  carnival.  It  was  of  importance  that  the  close  of 
it  should  not  disappoint  the  expectations  which  the 
success  of  the  beginning  of  the  year  gave  rise  to.  I 
hit  upon  a  work  perfectly  calculated  to  crown  my 
labors. 

I  had  seen  at  the  theatre  of  St.  Luke  a  piece  called 
"  Le  Putte  de  Castello  "  (  The  Girls  of  the  Quarter  of 
Castello).  This  was  a  popular  comedy,  the  princi- 
pal subject  of  which  was  a  Venetian  girl  without 
talents,  morals,  or  address.  The  work  made  its  ap- 
pearance before  the  theatres  were  placed  under  the  con- 
trol of  a  censor.  Character,  plot  and  dialogue,  every- 
thing was  faulty,  everything  was  dangerous.  It  was 
a  national  comedy,  however.  It  amused  the  public, 
and  served  to  draw  crowds,  who  laughed  at  the  misap- 
plied jokes.     I  was  so  much  pleased  with  the  public, 


260  MEMOIRS    OF 

who  began  to  prefer  comedy  to  farce,  and  decency  to 
scurrility,  that,  to  prevent  the  mischief  which  this 
piece  was  calculated  to  produce  in  minds  yet  undecided, 
I  gave  one  in  the  same  style,  but  respectable  and  in- 
structive, which  I  called,  "  La  Putta  Onorata  "  (The 
Respectable  Girl),  and  which  was  calculated  to  prove 
an  antidote  to  the  poison  of  "  The  Girls  of  the  Quar- 
ter of  Castello." 

In  some  of  the  scenes  of  this  comedy  I  painted  the 
Venetian  gondoliers  from  nature  in  a  very  entertaining 
manner  to  those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  language 
and  maimers  of  my  country.  I  wished  to  be  recon- 
ciled to  this  class  of  domestics,  who  were  deserving  of 
some  attention,  and  who  were  discontented  with  me. 
The  gondoliers  at  Venice  are  allowed  a  place  in  the 
theatre,  when  the  pit  is  not  full  ;  but  as  they  could  not 
enter  at  my  comedies,  they  were  forced  to  wait  for 
their  masters  in  the  streets  or  in  their  gondolas.  I 
had  heard  them  myself  distinguish  me  with  very  droll 
and  comical  epithets  ;  and  having  procured  them  a  few 
places  in  the  corners  of  the  house,  they  were  quite  de- 
lighted to  see  themselves  brought  on  the  stage,  and  I 
became  their  friend.  The  piece  had  all  the  success  which 
I  could  desire.  It  was  impossible  to  conclude  the  sea- 
son with  greater  brilliancy.  My  reform  was  now  far  ad- 
vanced. What  a  happiness  and  pleasure  for  me  !  While 
I  worked  on  the  old  plots  of  the  Italian  comedy,  and  only 
gave  pieces  partly  written  and  partly  sketched,  I  was 
allowed  the  peaceable  enjoyment  of  the  applause  of  the 
pit  :  but  when  I  announced  myself  for  an  author,  an 
inventor,  and  poet,  the  minds  of  men  awoke  from  their 
lethargy,  and  I  was  supposed  worthy  of  their  attention 
and  their  criticisms.  My  countrymen,  so  long  ac- 
customed to  trivial  farces  and  gigantic  representations, 


CAELO  GOLDOXI.  261 

became  all  at  once  the  most  rigid  censors  of  my  pro- 
ductions. The  names  of  Aristotle,  Horace,  and  Cas- 
telvetro  were  re-echoed  in  every  circle,  and  my  works 
became  the  subject  of  the  conversation  of  the  day.  I 
might  he  excused  from  mentioning,  at  this  distance  of 
time,  those  verbal  disputes,  fleeting  as  the  wind,  which 
were  soon  stifled  by  my  successes  ;  but  I  am  not  dis- 
pleased to  have  an  opportunity  of  adverting  to  them 
for  the  purpose  of  informing  my  readers  of  my  mode 
of  thinking  with  respect  to  the  rules  of  comedy,  and 
of  the  method  I  laid  down  in  carrying  them  into  exe- 
cution. The  unities  requisite  for  the  perfection  of  the- 
atrical works  have  in  all  times  been  the  subject  of  dis- 
cussion among  authors  and  amateurs.  The  censors  of 
my  plays  of  character  had  nothing  to  reproach  me 
with  in  respect  to  the  unity  of  action  and  of  time;  but 
they  maintained  that  in  the  unity  of  place  I  had  been 
deficient.  The  action  of  my  comedies  was  always  con- 
fined to  the  same  town;  and  tlîe  characters  never  de- 
parted from  it.  It  is  true,  they  went  from  one  place  to 
another;  but  all  these  places  were  within  the  same 
walls  ;  and  I  was  then  and  am  still  of  opinion,  that  in  this 
manner  the  unity  of  place  was  sufficiently  observed. 

In  every  art  and  every  discovery  experience  has 
always  preceded  precepts.  In  the  course  of  time  a 
method  has  been  assigned  by  writers  to  the  practice  of 
the  invention,  but  modern  authors  have  always  pos- 
sessed the  right  of  putting  an  interpretation  on  the 
ancients.  For  my  part,  not  finding,  either  in  the  poet- 
ics of  Aristotle  or  Horace,  a  clear  and  absolute  precept 
founded  on  reason  for  the  rigorous  unity  of  place,  I 
have  always  adhered  to  it  when  my  subject  seemed  to 
me  susceptible  of  it  ;  but  I  could  never  induce  myself 
to  sacrifice  a  good  comedy  for  the  sake  of  a  prejudice 


262  MEMOIRS    OF 

which  might  have  rendered  it  bad.  The  Italians  would 
never  have  been  so  rigidly  disposed  towards  me,  es- 
pecially in  the  case  of  my  first  productions,  had  they 
not  been  provoked  by  the  injudicious  zeal  of  my  par- 
tisans. They  extolled  my  pieces  greatly  beyond  their 
merit,  and  well-informed  people  only  condemned  their 
fanaticism.  The  disputes  grew  more  and  more  warm 
on  the  subject  of  my  last  piece.  My  champions  main- 
tained that  the  "  Putta  Onorata  n  was  a  faultless  comedy, 
and  the  rigoriste  maintained  that  the  protagonist  was 
injudiciously  chosen.  1  ask  pardon  of  my  readers  for 
here  making  use  of  a  Greek  word,  which  ought  to  be 
known,  but  which  is  very  little  used.  It  is  not  to  be 
found  in  any  dictionary  that  I  know  of;  but  it  has  been 
frequently  used  by  celebrated  authors  of  my  country. 
The  term  "protagonist"  is  employed  by  Castelvetro, 
Crescimbeui,  Gravina,  Quadrio,  Muratori,  Maffei,  Me- 
tastasio,  and  many  others,  to  signify  the  principal  sub- 
ject of  the  piece.  The  utility  of  this  Greek  word,  which 
comprises  the  meaning  of  six  words  in  one,  is  evident  ; 
and  I  request  permission  to  avail  myself  of  it  for  the 
purpose  of  avoiding  the  monotony  of  a  phrase  which 
in  the  course  of  my  work  might  at  length  become 
wearisome.  It  was  said  that  the  character  of  the  Pro- 
tagonist was  ill-chosen,  because  it  was  selected  from 
the  class  of  vicious  or  ridiculous  characters.  "  The  Re- 
spectable Girl,"  on  the  other  hand,  was  virtuous  and 
interesting  from  her  morals,  her  mildness,  and  her  posi- 
tion, and  I  had  failed,  it  was  said,  in  the  object  of  my 
comedy,  which  is,  to  hold  vice  up  to  abhorrence,  and 
to  correct  failings.  My  censors  were  in  the  right  ;  but 
I  was  not  in  the  wrong. 

My  object  was  to  begin  by  flattering  the  country  for 
which  I  was  employed,  and  the  subject  was  new,  agree- 


CARLO    GOLDONI.  263 

al>lp.  and  national.  T  proposed  a  model  to  my  specta- 
tors for  their  imitation.  If  we  succeed  iu  inspiring  a 
love  of  probity,  is  it  not  better  to  endeavor  to  gain 
hearts  by  the  charms  of  virtue  than  by  the  horror  of 
vice  ?  In  speaking  of  virtue,  I  do  uot  mean  an  heroical 
virtue,  affecting  from  its  distresses,  and  pathetic  from 
its  diction.  Those  works  which  in  French  are  called 
dramas  have  certainly  their  merit  ;  they  are  a  species 
of  theatrical  representation  between  tragedy  and  comedy, 
and  an  additional  subject  of  entertainment  for  feeling 
hearts.  The  misfortunes  of  the  heroes  of  tragedy  in- 
terest us  at  a  distance,  but  those  of  our  equals  are  cal- 
culated to  affect  us  more  closely.  Comedy,  which  is 
an  imitation  of  nature,  ought  not  to  reject  virtuous  and 
pathetic  sentiments,  if  the  essential  object  be  observed 
of  enlivening  it  with  those  comic  and  prominent  traits 
which  constitute  the  very  foundation  of  its  existence. 
Far  be  it  from  me  to  indulge  the  foolish  presumption 
of  setting  up  f  »r  a  preceptor.  I  merely  wish  to  impart 
to  my  readers  the  little  I  have  learned,  and  have  my- 
self done;  and  in  the  most  contemptible  books  we 
always  find  something  deserving  of  attention. 

The  Venetian  language,  which  I  used  in  the  comedy 
of  the  "  Putta  Onorata,"  and  in  several  other  plays,  is 
undoubtedly  the  mildest  and  most  agreeable  of  all  the 
dialects  of  Italy;  its  pronunciation  is  clear,  delicate. 
and  easy,  its  words  abundant  and  expressive,  and  its 
phrases  harmonious  and  ingenious  :  and  as  the  char- 
acter of  the  Venetian  nation  is  distinguished  for  gayety, 
their  language  is  in  the  same  manner  distinguished  for 
lightness  and  pleasantry. 

This  does  uot  prevent  the  language  from  being  sus- 
ceptible of  treating  in  an  elevated  manner  the  most 
grave  and  interesting  subjects.     The  advocates  plead 


264  MEMOIRS    OF 

in  Venetian,  and  the  harangues  of  the  senators  are  de- 
livered in  the  same  idiom;  hut  without  derogating 
from  the  majesty  of  the  throne  or  the  dignity  of  the 
bar,  our  orators  possess  a  happy  faculty  of  associating 
the  most  agreeable  and  interesting  graces  with  the 
most  sublime  eloquence. 


II. 

Of  all  my  pieces  the  "  Yedova  Scaltra"  was  the  most 
fortunate  :  hut  it  also  underwent  the  most  severe  and 
dangerous  criticisms.  My  adversaries,  or  those  of  my 
comedians,  made  an  attempt  which  would  have  ruined 
all  of  us,  if  I  had  not  been  courageous  enough  to  step 
forward  in  defence  of  the  common  cause.  At  the 
third  representation  of  the  second  season  of  this  piece, 
the  play-bills  of  St.  Samuel  announced  a  new  comedy, 
called  "  The  School  fox  Widows."  I  was  told  that  it 
was  a  parody  of  my  piece,  hut  it  was  no  such  thing,  it 
was  my  widow  herself,  with  the  same  plot  and  the 
same  incidents.  Nothing  was  changed  but  the  dia- 
logue, which  was  filled  with  insulting  invectives 
against  me  and  my  comediaus.  One  actor  uttered  a 
few  phrases  of  my  original,  another  added  silly  stuff. 
Some  of  the  bon-mots  and  pleasantries  of  my  piece 
were  repeated,  and  a  cry  was  set  up  in  chorus  of  "  Stu- 
pid !  stupid  !  "  This  work  cost  no  trouble  to  the  author, 
who  had  merely  followed  my  plan,  and  whose  style 
was  not  superior  to  my  own  :  applause,  however,  burst 
forth  from  every  quarter,  and  the  sarcasms  and  satiri- 
cal traits  were  received  with  laughter,  cries  of  bravo, 
and  reiterated  clapping  of  hands.  I  was  in  my  box, 
covered  with  my  mask.  I  kept  silence,  and  called  the 
public  ungrateful;  but  I  was  in  the  wrong;  for  this 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  265 

inimical  public  was  none  of  mine.  Three  fourths  of 
the  spectators  were  composed  of  people  who  had  an 
interest  in  my  ruin;  for  Medebac  and  myself  had  to 
struggle  against  six  other  theatres  in  the  same  city. 
Each  of  them  had  its  several  friends  and  adherents; 
and  those  who  were  not  interested  were  amused  with 
the  scandal. 

I  instantly  formed  my  resolution.  I  had  resolved 
to  answer  no  criticisms  ;  but  I  might  have  been  re- 
proached with  cowardice,  had  I  not  attempted  to  stop 
the  torrent  which  then  threatened  to  overwhelm  me. 
I  returned  home,  and  gavç  orders  to  my  family  to  sup 
and  retire  to  bed,  and  leave  me  to  myself.  I  imme- 
diately shut  myself  up  in  my  closet,  and  seized  my 
pen  in  dudgeon,  which  I  did  not  quit  till  I  imagined 
myself  avenged.  I  put  my  apology  into  action,  and 
composed  a  dialogue  with  three  characters,  under  the 
title  of  "  Apologetic  Prologue  of  the  Cunning  Widow."' 
I  did  not  dwell  on  the  stupidity  of  the  work  of  my 
enemies.  My  first  endeavor  was  to  point  out  the  dan- 
gerous abuse  of  theatrical  liberty,  and  the  necessity 
of  a  police  to  preserve  decency  in  theatres.  I  had 
remarked  in  this  wicked  parody  certain  expressions 
which  could  not  but  shock  the  delicacy  of  the  republic 
with  respect  to  strangers.  The  people  of  Venice,  for 
example,  use  the  word  "  Panimbruo  "  by  way  of  insult 
to  Protestants.  It  is  a  vague  word,  somewhat  like  that 
of  Huguenot  in  France  ;  and  the  g<  >nd<  ilier  of  my  lord, 
in  "  The  School  for  Widows,"  thought  proper  to  call 
his  master  Panimbruo.  The  other  strangers  were  not 
treated  with  more  ceremony  ;  and  I  was  sure  that  my 
observations  could  not  fail  to  effect  the  object  which  I 
had  in  view.  After  advocating  the  interest  of  civil 
society,  I  defended  my  own  cause,  and  set  forth  the  in- 


2(315  MEMOIRS    OF 

justice  which  I  had  experienced.  I  opposed  reason  to 
satire,  and  answered  insults  by  decent  reflections.  On 
the  completion  of  my  work.  I  did  not  present  it  to  gov- 
ernment. I  avoided  everything  like  the  conflict  of 
jurisdictions  and  protections.  I  therefore  sent  my 
pamphlet  to  the  press,  and  addressed  my  complaints 
to  the  public.  I  could  not  conceal  my  project,  which 
was  known  and  dreaded,  and  every  means  was  re- 
sorted to  to  prevent  its  execution. 

Medebae  had  a  protector  in  the  first  order  of  the 
nobility  and  in  the  first  officers  of  state,  who  ought  to 
have  favored  me  ;  but  he  was  afraid  lest  my  temerity 
should  occasion  my  own  ruin  and  that  of  his  protege. 
He  did  me  the  honor  to  visit  me.  and  advised  me  at 
first  to  withdraw  my  Prologue,  but  when  he  saw  that 
I  was  determined,  he  informed  me  that  I  ran  the  risk 
of  displeasing  the  supreme  tribunal  to  which  the  police 
of  the  state  is  intrusted.  I  was.  however,  firm  in  my 
resolution  and  not  to  be  shaken  by  anything  ;  and  I 
told  his  excellency  very  frankly,  that  my  work  was  in 
the  press  :  that  my  printer  was  known  :  and  that  the 
government  might  seize  my  manuscript  if  it  thought 
proper  ;  but  that  if  this  was  attempted,  I  should  in- 
stantly set  out  to  have  it  printed  in  another  country. 
This  nobleman  was  astonished  at  my  firmness.  He 
knew  me  ;  he  was  kind  enough  to  rely  on  me  ;  he  took 
me  by  the  hand  witli  an  air  of  confidence,  and  left  me 
to  prosecute  my  wishes.  The  day  following,  my 
pamphlet  made  its  appearance.  Three  thousand  copies 
were  thrown  off.  and  I  gave  orders  for  their  distribution 
gratis  at  all  the  coffee-houses,  theatres,  and  other  places 
of  assembly,  and  to  my  friends,  protectors,  and  acquaint- 
ance. "  The  School  for  Widows"  was  instantly  sup- 
pressed, and,  two  days  afterwards,  an  order  was  issued 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  267 

by  the  government  for  the  license  of  theatrical  pro- 
ductions. My  ••  Cunning  Wid<  w  "  was  more  applauded 
and  drew  greater  crowds  than  ever;  our  enemies  were 
humbled,  and  we  redoubled  our  zeal  and  activity.  If 
my  reader  should  be  curious  to  know  the  author  of 
"The  School  for  Widows,"  I  cannot  satisfy  him.  I 
shall  never  name  those  whose  intentions  have  been 
directed  to  ruin  me. 

The  termination  of  the  carnival  of  1749  was  ap- 
proaching. We  went  on  admirably,  and  had  the  ad- 
vantage over  all  the  other  theatres  ;  but,  after  the 
battles  which  we  had  gained,  something  brilliant  was 
requisite  to  crown  my  year.  The  malice  of  my  enemies 
had  given  me  too  much  occupation  to  allow  me  to 
execute  the  project  of  a  brilliant  close,  which  I  had 
sketched.  I  found  a  comedy  in  my  portfolio  which  by 
no  means  satisfied  me,  and  which  I  was  therefore 
unwilling  to  hazard.  I  should  have  wished  the  re- 
mainder of  the  carnival  filled  up  with  old  plays  ;  but 
Medebac  told  me  that,  as  we  had  only  given  two  new 
plays  in  the  course  of  the  year,  and  as  the  public  which 
seemed  satisfied  with  the  defence  of  "  The  Cunning 
Widow  "  would  not  perhaps  be  equally  disposed  to 
pardon  us  for  our  want  of  novelty,  it  would  be  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  obviate  this  reproach  by  closing  with 
a  new  comedy.  To  these  suggestions,  winch  were  not 
without  foundation,  I  at  once  yielded.  I  gave  ''The 
Fortunate  Heiress,"  a  comedy  in  three  acts,  and  in 
prose.  It  fell,  however,  as  I  had  foreseen  ;  and  as  the 
publie  easily  forget  those  who  have  contributed  to  their 
amusement,  and  never  pardon  those  who  have  wearied 
them,  we  were  on  the  point  of  closing  our  theatre  under 
very  unpleasant  circumstances. 

Another  event  of  a  much  more  disagreeable  nature 


268  MEMOIRS   OF 

and  much  more  dangerous  consequences  happened  to 
disturb  our  repose  at  the  some  time.  Darbes,  who 
was  an  excellent  actor  and  one  of  the  pillars  of  the 
company,  was  demanded  from  the  republic  of  Venice 
by  the  Saxon  minister  for  the  service  of  the  King  of 
Poland.  He  had  to  set  out  instantly,  and  quitted  us 
abruptly  to  prepare  for  his  journey.  Medebac's  loss 
was  the  greater,  as  we  knew  of  no  person  capable  of 
supplying  his  place,  and  the  boxes  for  the  ensuing  year 
began  to  be  thrown  up. 

Piqued  at  the  ill-humor  of  the  public,  and  presuming 
something  on  my  own  worth,  in  the  closing  address 
delivered  by  the  principal  actress,  I  promised,  in  very 
indifferent  verses,  but  very  distinctly  and  positively, 
that,  next  year,  I  would  bring  out  sixteen  new  pieces. 
When  I  entered  into  this  engagement,  I  had  not  a 
single  subject  in  my  head.  However,  there  was  no 
alternative  but  keeping  my  word,  or  destruction.  My 
friends  trembled  for  me,  my  enemies  smiled  ;  I  com- 
forted the  former,  and  laughed  in  my  turn  at  the  others. 
You  will  see  how  I  extricated  myself.  This  was  a 
terrible  year  for  me,  and  the  remembrance  of  it  still 
makes  my  flesh  creep.  Sixteen  comedies  of  three  acts 
each,  and  each  act  filling  up,  according  to  the  custom 
of  Italy,  two  hours  and  a  half  of  representation.  But 
what  alarmed  me  the  most  was  the  difficulty  of  finding 
an  actor  equal  in  point  of  ability  and  agreeable  qualities 
to  the  one  we  had  lost.  Every  endeavor  was  used  by 
Medebac  and  myself  to  discover  a  suitable  person  on 
the  continent  of  Italy  ;  and  at  length  we  found  out  a 
young  man  who  played  the  character  in  which  we  were 
deficient  in  strolling  companies  with  applause.  We 
brought  him  to  A'enice  for  trial.  He  acquitted  himself 
very  well  with   his  mask,   and   still   better  with   his 


CARLO   GOLDONL  209 

countenance  uncovered.  His  voice  and  figure  were 
good,  and  he  sang  delightfully.  This  was  Antonio 
Mattiuzzi,  called  Collalto,  of  the  city  of  Vicenza.  This 
man.  who  had  received  a  good  education  and  was  not 
deficient  in  abilities,  only  knew  the  old  comedies  of 
intrigue,  and  required  to  be  instructed  in  the  new  kind 
introduced  by  me. 

I  attached  myself  to  him,  and  took  him  under  my 
care.  He  placed  an  implicit  reliance  on  me.  His 
d<  tcility  pleased  me  more  and  more  ;  and  I  followed  the 
company  to  Bologna  and  Mantua,  for  the  sate  of  com- 
pleting the  formation  of  my  new  actor,  who  had  become 
my  friend.  During  the  five'  months  which  we  passed 
in  these  two  cities  of  Lombardy  I  did  not  lose  my  time, 
but  continued  laboring  night  and  day,  and  we  returned 
towards  the  commencement  of  autumn  to  Venice,  where 
we  were  expected  with  great  impatience.  We  opened 
the  theatre  with  a  piece  entitled  "  II  Teatro  Comico  " 
(The  Comic  Theatre).  I  had  announced  it  as  a  comedy 
in  three  acts,  but  in  reality  it  was  only  apiece  of  poetry 
thrown  into  action,  and  divided  into  three  parts.  It 
was  my  intention,  in  composing  this  work,  to  place  it 
at  the  head  of  a  new  edition  of  my  theatre  ;  but  I  was 
pleased  to  have  also  an  opportunity  of  instructing  those 
who  are  not  fond  of  reading,  and  engaging  them  to 
listen  to  maxims  and  corrections  from  the  stage,  which 
w<  mid  have  wearied  them  in  a  book.  The  piece  finished 
with  applause.  I  have  not  time  to  mention  the  com- 
pliments of  my  friends  and  the  astonishment  of  my 
enemies.  My  object  at  present  is  not  to  boast  of  my 
projects,  but  to  state  the  maimer  in  which  they  were 
carried  into  execution. 

A  few  days  afterwards,  we  gave  the  first  representa- 
tion of  the  "  Donne  Pontigliose  "  ;  or,  "  The  Punctilious 


270  MEMOIRS    OF 

Ladies."  I  composed  this  comedy  during  my  residence 
at  Mantua,  and  it  was  acted  in  the  theatre  of  that 
t<  >\vn  by  way  of  trial.  It  was  received  with  great  pleas- 
ure, but  I  ran  the  risk  of  drawing  on  myself  the  indig- 
nation of  one  of  the  first  ladies  of  the  country,  who,  a 
short  time  before,  had  been  in  the  situation  of  one  of 
the  females  of  the  piece.  Every  one  fixed  their  eyes  on 
her  box;  but,  fortunately  for  me,  she  possessed  too 
much  good  sense  to  give  any  furtherance  to  the  malice 
of  the  evil-disposed,  and  warmly  applauded  all  the 
passages  which  could  bear  an  application  to  her.  The 
same  thing  happened  afterwards  t<>  me  at  Floreuce  and 
Verona  ;  and  in  each  of  these  cities  it  was  believed  that 

I  had  taken  the  subject  of  my  play  from  among  them. 
This  is  an  evident  proof  that  Nature  is  everywhere  the 
same,  and  that,  if  we  consult  her,  we  shall  never  fail 
in  our  characters.  This  piece  was  not  so  fortunate  at 
Venice  as  elsewhere,  and  that  for  very  good  reasons. 
The  wives  of  the  patricians  are  in  a  situation  which 
secures  them  from  having  their  pre-eminence  called  in 
questi<  >n  at  home  ;  and  they  are  unacquainted  with  the 
punctilios  of  the  provinces. 

I  had  taken  tins  piece  from  the  class  of  nobles,  but 
the  following  from  the  middle  class.     It  was  in  Italian, 

II  La  Bottega  di  Cafe"  (The  Coffee-House),  and  it  had 
a  very  brilliant  success.  The  assemblage  and  contrast 
of  the  characters  could  not  fail  to  please.  That  of  the 
backbiter  was  placed  to  several  well-known  individuals. 
One  of  them  vowed  vengeance  agaiust  me,  and  I  was 
threatened  with  swords,  knives,  and  pistols  ;  but,  curi- 
ous perhaps  to  see  sixteen  new  plays  in  one  year,  they 
gave  me  time  to  finish  them.  At  a  time  when  I  was 
looking  out  for  subjects  of  comedy  everywhere,  I  recol- 
lected having  seen  the  "  Liar  "  of  Corneille,  translated 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  271 

into  Italian,  represented  at  Florence  in  a  private  thea- 
tre; and  as  a  piece  which  we  have  seen  acted  is  more 
easily  retained,  I  remembered  very  distinctly  those 
places  with  which  I  had  been  the  most  struck.  I  recol- 
lect having  said,  when  I  saw  it,  "This  is  a  good  com- 
edy, hut  the  character  of  the  Liar  is  susceptible  of  a 
much  crreater  degree  of  comic  humor."  As  I  had  not 
much  time  to  hesitate  respecting  the  choice  of  my  sub- 
jects, I  fixed  on  this;  and  my  imagination,  which  was 
then  very  quick  and  ready,  instantly  furnished  me  with 
such  an  abundance  of  matter  for  comedy,  that  I  was 
tempted  to  create  a  new  u  Liar."  But  I  rejected  my 
project.  To  Corneille  I  was  indebted  for  the  first  idea, 
and  I  respected  my  master,  and  considered  it  an  honor 
to  work  after  him;  adding,  however,  what  seemed 
necessary  for  the  taste  of  my  nation  and  for  the  success 
of  my  piece,  which  had  all  the  applause  I  could  possi- 
bly desire.  The  subject  of  a  liar,  which  was  less  vi- 
cious than  comic,  suggested  another  to  me  of  a  more 
wicked  and  dangerous  nature  ;  I  mean  the  flatterer. 
Rousseau's  was  unsuccessful  in  France,  but  mine  was 
very  well  received  in  Italy  ;  for  this  reason  :  the  French 
poet  treated  the  subject  more  as  a  philosopher  than  a 
eomic  author;  whereas  I  endeavored,  in  inspiring  hor- 
ror for  the  vice,  to  enliven  at  the  same  time  the  piece 
by  comic  episodes  and  prominent  traits. 

The  following  comedy  is  altogether  different  in  kind 
from  the  preceding;  for  it  is  taken  from  among  the 
class  of  the  ridiculous,  —  an  alternation  which  is  not 
without  its  use  in  the  production  of  several  works. 
The  "  Famiglia  del  l'Antiquario  "  (The  Antiquary's 
House)  was  the  sixth  of  the  sixteen  projected  plays. 
I  called  it  at  first  merely  "  The  Antiquary"  from  the  pro- 
tagonist; but,  fearful  lest  the  disputes  between  his  wife 


272  MEMOIRS    OF 

and  daughter-in-law  should  produce  a  double  interest, 
I  gave  a  title  to  the  comedy  which  embraced  the  whole 
at  once,  especially  as  the  failings  of  the  two  wives  and 
that  of  the  head  of  the  family  set  off  one  another,  and 
contributed  equally  to  the  humor  and  the  morality  of 
the  work'.  The  word  "  antiquarian77  is  equally  applied 
in  Italy  to  those  who  devote  their  learning  to  the  study 
of  antiquity,  and  those  who  pick  up,  without  knowl- 
edge, copies  for  originals  and  trifles  for  precious  monu- 
ments.    I  took  my  subject  from  among  the  latter. 

III. 

For  some  time  the  novel  of  "  Pamela"  had  been  the 
delight  of  the  Italians,  and  my  friends  urged  me  strongly 
to  turn  it  into  a  comedy.  I  was  acquainted  with  the 
work,  and  felt  no  difficulty  in  seizing  the  spirit  of  it, 
and  approximating  the  objects  ;  but  the  moral  aim 
of  the  English  author  was  not  reconcilable  with  the 
manners  and  laws  of  my  country.  A  nobleman  in 
London  does  not  derogate  from  his  nobility  in  marrying 
a  peasant  :  but  at  Venice  a  patrician  who  should  marry 
a  plebeian  would  deprive  his  children  of  the  patrician 
nobility,  and  they  would  lose  their  right  to  the  sover- 
eignty. Comedy,  which  is,  or  ought  to  be,  a  school 
for  propriety,  should  only  expose  human  weaknesses 
for  the  sake  of  correcting  them:  and  it  would  be  un- 
justifiable to  hazard  the  sacrifice  of  an  unfortunate 
posterity  under  the  pretext  of  recompensing  virtue.  I 
renounced,  therefore,  the  charm  of  this  novel,  but  ne- 
cessitated as  I  then  was  to  multiply  my  subjects,  and 
surrounded  both  at  Mantua  and  Venice  by  persons 
who  instigated  me  to  labor  upon  it,  I  willingly  con- 
sented.   I  did  not,  however,  begin  the  work  till  I  had  in- 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  273 

vented  a  denouement  which,  instead  of  being  dangerous, 
might  serve  as  a  model  to  virtuous  lovers,  and  render 
the  catastrophe  both  more  agreeable  and  more  interest- 
ing. The  comedy  of  "  Pamela  "  is  a  drama,  according 
to  the  French  definition  ;  Hut  the  public  found  it  inter- 
esting and  amusing,  and  of  all  my  works  yet  given,  it 
was  the  most  successful. 

After  a  sentimental  piece,  I  gave  one  founded  on  the 
usages  of  civil  society,  under  the  title  of  "Il  Cavalière 
di  bnon  gusto,77  which  might  be  translated  in  French, 
"L'Homme  de  Gout77  (The  Man  of  Taste).  This 
title,  it  is  true,  would  in  France  announce  a  person  ac- 
quainted with  the  sciences  and  fine  arts  ;  whereas  the 
Italian  of  good  taste,  whom  I  paint  in  my  piece,  is  a 
man  who,  with  a  moderate  fortune,  contrives  to  pos- 
sess a  charming  house,  select  servants,  an  excellent 
cook,  and  shines  in  society  as  an  affluent  individual, 
without  injuring  any  one  or  deranging  his  affairs. 
There  are  curious  individuals  in  the  piece  anxious  to 
conjecture  his  secret,  and  slanderers  who  attack  his 
fame;  and  the  latter  are  of  the  number  of  those  who 
frequent  his  table  and  profit  by  his  generosity.  This 
piece  succeeded  tolerably  well,  but  it  was  its  misfor- 
tune to  follow  "  Pamela,77  which  had  turned  everybody's 
head.  It  was  more  fortunate  when  resumed  the  fal- 
lowing- year.  The  same  thing  happened  to  ''The 
Gamester,77  which  was  the  ninth  comedy  of  my  en- 
gagement ;  but  as  it  did  not  rise  again  like  the  other, 
I  myself  coincided  with  the  public  in  regarding  it  as  a 
piece  condemned  without  remedy. 

In  the  comedy  of  "  The  Coffee-House,"  the  third 
piece  of  this  year,  I  had  very  happily  introduced  a 
gamester,  and  the  character  was  acted  by  our  new 
pantaloon,  without  a  ina.ik,   in   a  very  agreeable  and 


274  MEMOIRS    OF 

interesting  manner.  Believing  that  I  had  not  then 
said  enough  on  the  subject  of  this  unfortunate  passion, 
I  proposed  to  treat  the  matter  mure  thoroughly;  but 
the  episodical  gamester  of  "The  Coffee-  House  "  had 
the  advantage  of  the  one  which  was  the  principal  sub- 
ject of  the  piece.  I  may  be  allowed  also  to  add  that 
all  sorts  of  games  of  hazard  were  then  tolerated  at 
Venice  ;  and  that  the  famous  Eidotto,  which  enriched 
some  and  ruined  others,  but  which  drew  gamesters 
from  the  four  quarters  of  the  world,  and  threw  money 
into  circulation,  was  then  also  in  existence.  It  was 
unadvised  in  me,  therefore,  to  lay  open  the  consequen- 
ces of  this  (langerons  amusement,  and  still  more  the 
tricks  of  certain  gamblers,  and  the  artifices  of  the  bro- 
kers ;  and  in  a  city  of  two  hundred  thousand  souls,  my 
piece  could  not  fail  to  have  a  number  of  enemies. 
The  republic  of  Venice  has  since  prohibited  games  of 
hazard  and  suppressed  the  Eidotto.  This  suppression 
may  be  complained  of  by  certain  individuals  ;  but  to 
prove  the  wisdom  of  this  measure,  it  is  only  necessary 
to  state  that  those  very  members  of  the  grand  council 
who  are  fond  of  gaming  gave  their  voices  in  favor  of 
the  new  law.  1  do  not  state  this  with  a  view  to  excuse 
the  failure  of  my  piece  by  arguments  foreign  to  the  sub- 
ject. It  fell,  and  consequently  it  was  bad  ;  and  it  is 
no  small  matter  for  me  that  of  sixteen  comedies,  it  was 
the  only  one  which  failed.  The  public  called  (tut  for 
"Pamela  "  :  but  I  refused  to  gratify  the  wish.  I  was 
jealous  of  fulfilling  my  engagement,  and  I  had  still 
seven  new  pieces  to  give. 

After  the  failure  of  my  last  piece  it  was  said  that 
Goldoui's  fire  was  exhausted  :  that  he  began  to  decline; 
that  he  would  end  badly,  and  that  his  pride  would  be 
humbled.      This   last  expression   alone  gave  me  any 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  275 

displeasure.  I  might  be  accused  of  imprudence  in 
having  contracted  an  engagement  which  might  cost  me 
the  loss  of  my  health,  or  that  of  my  reputation  ;  hut  as  to 
pride,  I  never  possessed  any,  or  at  least,  I  could  never 
perceive  it.  I  treated  this  libel  with  contempt;  but  I 
was  more  and  more  convinced  of  the  necessity  of  re- 
establishing the  interest,  gayety,  instruction,  and  the 
old  credit  of  my  theatre.  All  these  views  were  fulfilled 
in  the  comedy  of  "  The  True  Friend,"  which  was  an- 
nounced at  the  opening  of  the  carnival.  I  derived  the 
plot  from  an  historical  anecdote,  and  I  treated  it  with 
all  the  delicacy  the  subject  demanded.  This  is  one  of 
my  favorite  plays  ;  and  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
the  public  of  the  same  opinion  with  myself:  and  in- 
deed I  was  astonished  that  I  could  bestow  the  necessary 
time  and  care  on  it  in  so  laborious  a  year  for  me.  But 
the  "Finta  Ammalata  "  (The  Feigned  Invalid),  by 
which  it  was  followed,  cost  me  no  less  trouble,  and  was 
attended  with  equal  success. 

Madame  Medebac,  who  furnished  me  with  the  sub- 
ject of  it,  was  an  excellent  actress,  strongly  attached  to 
her  profession,  but  she  was  subject  to  fits  of  ennui  : 
she  was  often  ill,  often  imagined  herself  so,  and  some- 
times nothing  ailed  her  but  her  fits,  which  she  had  at 
her  command.  In  this  last  case  we  had  only  to  pr<  >- 
pose  giving  a  fine  character  to  a  subaltern  actress,  and 
she  recovered  instantly.  I  took  the  liberty  of  drawing 
Madame  Medebac  herself;  she  partly  saw  it,  but  as 
she  found  the  part  charming,  she  accepted  it,  and  rep- 
resented it  admirably.  Notwithstanding  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  subject,  this  piece  was  generally  well  re- 
ceived, and  extremely  applauded.  Perhaps  it  owed  its 
success  to  the  actress,  who  took  a  pleasure  in  playing 
her  own  character,  and  exhibited  it  without  the  smallest 


276  MEMOIRS    OF 

effort  or  constraint.  The  physicians  of  different  charac- 
ters, and  a  deaf  quidnunc  of  an  apothecary,  who  mistook 

everything  that  was  said  to  him,  and  preferred  the 
reading  of  gazettes  to  that  of  prescriptions,  contributed 
no  less  to  the  success. 

After  the  comedy  of  "  Pamela,"  and  more  especially 
during  the  equivocal  success  of  "  The  Man  of  Taste," 
and  the  failure  of  "  The  Gamester,"  my  friends  abso- 
lutely iusisted  that  I  should  give  another  play  borrowed 
from  some  novel,  that  I  might,  as  they  said,  spare  my- 
self the  trouble  of  invention.  Wearied  with  their  so- 
licitations, I  at  last  told  them  that,  instead  of  reading 
a  novel  for  the  sake  of  composing  a  play,  I  should  pre- 
fer composing  a  piece  from  which  a  novel  might  be  made. 
Some  began  to  laugh,  and  others  took  me  at  my  word. 
"  Give  us,  then,"  said  they,  "a  novel  in  action;  a  piece 
as  full  of  plot  as  a  novel."  "  I  will  do  so."  "  In  ear- 
nest ?"  "  Yes,  in  earnest."  "On  your  honor? "  "  On 
my  honor." 

I  returned  home,  and,  warm  with  my  promise,  I  be- 
gan the  play  and  the  novel  at  the  same  time,  without 
having  the  subject  of  either  the  one  or  the  other.  "  I 
must,"  said  I  to  myself,  "  have  a  great  deal  of  intrigue  ; 
I  must  surprise  and  astonish,  and  at  the  same  time  ex- 
cite an  interest  ;  I  must  have  the  comic  combined  with 
the  pathetic.  A  heroine  would  excite  a  stronger  inter- 
est than  a  hero;  but  where  shall  I  seek  her?  We  shall 
see  :  but  in  the  mean  time  let  us  adopt  an  unknown 
lady  for  protagonist":  and  I  immediately  wrote  down 
on  my  paper,  u  LTncognita,  a  comedy;  act  first,  scene 
first."  "  This  woman  should  have  a  name,  let  us  give 
her  that  of  Rosaura  ;  but  is  she  to  make  her  appearance 
alone,  to  give  the  first  account  of  the  argument  of  the 
play  !     No,  that  is  the  fault  of  the  ancient  comedies  ; 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  277 

we  must  make  her  enter  with  —  yes,  with  Florindo 
—  Rosaura  and  Florindo."  Id  this  way  I  began  "The 
Incognita,"  and  continued  it  in  the  same  manner,  con- 
structing a  vast  edifice  without  knowing  whether  it 
would  turn  out  a  temple  or  an  exchange.  Each  scene 
produced  another:  one  event  gave  birth  to  four;  and 
at  the  end  of  the  first  act  the  picture  was  sketched,  and 
required  nothing  but  to  be  filled  up.  I  was  myself  as- 
tonished at  the  quantity  and  novelty  of  the  anecdotes 
with  which  my  imagination  supplied  me. 

At  the  end  of  the  second  act  I  began  to  think  of  the 
denouement,  and  to  prepare  something  which,  while  it 
was  unexpected,  should  not  appear  to  tall  from  the 
clouds.  My  friends  were  satisfied,  and  so  were  the 
public;  and  everybody  owned  that  my  piece  might 
have  furnished  sufficient  materials  for  a  novel  of  four 
large  volumes,  octavo. 

But  it  became  necessary  to  leave  these  sentimental 
pieces,  and  return  to  character  and  true  comedy  ;  and 
more  particularly  as  the  end  of  the  carnival  was  ap- 
proaching, and  the  theatre  required  to  be  enlivened  and 
brought  to  the  level  of  everybody.  "  La  Donna  Volu- 
bile"  (The  Capricious  Lady)  was  the  last  but  one  of  the 
season.  We  had  an  actress  in  the  company,  the  most 
capricious  woman  in  the  world,  whom  I  merely  copied  ; 
and  Madame  Medebac,  who  knew  the  original,  was  not 
sorry,  with  all  her  goodness,  to  have  an  opportunity 
of  laughing  a  little  at  her  companion.  This  character 
is  in  itself  comical,  but,  if  not  supported  by  interesting 
and  agreeable  situati<  >ns,  extremely  apt  to  become  weari- 
some. We  may  ridicule  changes  in  dress  and  enter- 
tainments, but  to  render  a  changeable  woman  a  subject 
of  comedy,  the  ridicule  must  arise  from  the  caprice  of 
her  mind.     A  woman  who  is  in  love  one  moment,  and 


278  MEMOIRS    OF 

no  longer  so  the  next,  who  utters  maxims,  and  who  is 
inflamed  with  a  passion  quite  the  reverse  of  her  first 
way  of  thinking,  forms  a  proper  subject  for  comedy. 
The  winding-up  of  this  piece  is  suitable  to  the  folly 
which  is  proposed  to  be  corrected.  Rosaura  decides 
at  length  for  marriage,  but  everybody  shuns  her  and 
refuses  to  have  her.  Madame  Medebae  played  the 
character  admirably.  Her  natural  mildness  was  ex- 
cellently adapted  to  the  silliness  of  the  Capricious 
Woman,  and  the  piece  produced  all  the  effect  which  I 
could  desire. 

I  had  but  another  comedy  to  give  to  conclude  the 
year,  and  fulfil  my  engagement.  We  were  at  the  last 
Sunday  of  the  carnival  but  one,  and  I  had  not  written 
a  line  of  this  last  piece,  nor  even  imagined  the  subject 
of  it.  I  sallied  out  of  my  house  that  day,  and,  by  way 
of  recreation,  repaired  to  the  square  of  St.  Mark.  I 
looked  round  to  see  if  any  of  the  masks  or  jugglers 
might  furnish  me  with  the  subject  of  a  comedy,  or  some 
sort  of  spectacle  for  Shrovetide.  I  observed  under  the 
arcade  of  the  clock  a  man  with  whom  I  was  instantly 
struck,  and  who  furnished  me  the  subject  I  was  in  quest 
of.  This  was  an  old  Armenian,  ill-dressed,  very  dirty, 
and  with  a  long  beard,  who  ran  about  the  streets  of 
Venice,  selling  tire  dried  fruits  of  his  country,  which  he 
called  abagigi.  This  man,  who  was  to  be  found  every- 
where, and  whom  I  had  myself  so  frequently  met,  was 
so  well  known  and  so  much  despised,  that  when  any 
one  wished  to  laugh  at  a  girl  desirous  of  a  husband,  he 
proposed  to  her  Abagigi  in  derision.  This  was  enough 
to  send  me  home  satisfied.  On  entering  my  house,  I 
shut  myself  up  in  my  closet,  and  began  a  low  comedy, 
which  I  called  "  I  Pettigolezzi  "  (The  G< >ssips).  Under 
this  title  it  has  been  translated  into  French  by  M.  Ric- 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  279 

coboni  the  younger,  and  represented  at  the  Italian  the- 
atre in  Paris.  The  translator  very  properly  changed 
the  character  of  Abagigi,  which  was  unknown  in 
France,  into  that  of  a  Jew  dealer  in  spectacles;  but 

neither  the  French  Jew  nor  the  Italian  Armenian  is 
the  protagonist  ;  and  they  are  only  serviceable  in  carry- 
ing forward  the  plot  of  the  piece,  which  succeeded  in 
both  languages.  I  could  only  give  it  on  Shrove  Tues- 
day for  the  first  time,  and  with  it  we  closed  the  carnival. 
The  concourse  was  so  extraordinary  that  day  that  the 
price  of  boxes  was  tripled  and  quadrupled,  and  the  ap- 
plause was  so  tumultuous  that  the  passengers  were  in 
doubt  whether  they  were  the  expression  of  satisfaction 
or  a  general  disapprobation.  I  was  seated  very  tran- 
quilly in  my  box,  surrounded  by  my  friends,  who  wept 
for  joy.  A  crowd  of  people  came  in  quest  of  me,  obliged 
me  to  leave  the  place,  dragged  and  carried  me  in  spite 
of  all  my  endeavors  to  the  Ridotto,  exhibited  me  from 
one  hall  to  another,  and  lavished  a  profusion  of  com- 
pliments on  me,  which  I  should  willingly  have  escaped 
if  possible.  I  was  too  much  fatigued  to  support  such 
a  ceremony;  besides,  as  I  was  ignorant  of  the  origin 
of  this  enthusiasm  of  the  moment,  I  was  displeased  to 
think  that  this  piece  should  be  preferred  to  so  many 
others  of  which  I  was  more  fond.  But  I  soon  discerned 
the  true  motive  of  this  general  acclamation.  It  was 
the  triumph  of  the  fulfilment  of  my  engagement. 


IV. 

At  the  age  of  forty-three  I  had  a  great  facility 
both  in  invention  and  execution,  but  still  I  M'as  a  man 
subject  to  infirmities  like  others.  The  assiduity  of  my 
labors  at  length  undermined  my  health,  and  I  fell  sick, 


280  MEMOIRS    OF 

and  paid  the  penalty  of  my  folly.  I  was  always  sub- 
ject to  tits  of  spleen,  which  attacked  body  and  mind  at 
once  ;  but  I  felt  a  renewal  of  them  at  this  time  with 
more  violence  than  ever.  I  was  literally  worn  out 
with  fatigue,  but  still  my  wretched  state  was,  in  a 
great  measure,  occasioned  by  the  chagrin  which  I  felt. 
I  must  conceal  nothing  from  my  readers. 

I  had  given  sixteen  pieces  in  the  course  of  a  year. 
The  director,  it  is  true,  did  not  demand  them  ;  but 
still  he  profited  by  them.  What  benefit  had  I  de- 
rived ?  Not  a  farthing  beyond  the  annual  stipulation, 
not  the  smallest  gratification.  I  received  abundance 
of  praise,  and  a  profusion  of  compliments,  but  not  the 
most  trifling  acknowledgment.  I  was  displeased  at 
this,  but  I  said  nothing.  However,  we  cannot  live  on 
glory  alone  ;  and  I  had  no  other  resource  but  an  edition 
of  my  works.  Who  would  suppose  that  in  this  I  should 
meet  with  opposition  from  Medebac,  and  that  some  of 
his  protectors  should  approve  of  the  opposition  ?  This 
man  disputed  my  right  of  authorship  under  the  pretext 
of  having  purchased  my  works.  Of  the  period  of  our 
engagement  there  was  still  some  time  to  run  ;  I  could 
not,  or  rather  I  was  unwilling,  to  enter  into  a  litiga- 
tion with  persons  whom  I  should  have  occasion  to  see 
every  day  :  I  was  too  great  a  lover  of  peace  to  sacrifice 
it  to  interest  ;  and  I  yielded  my  pretensions,  and  was 
satisfied  with  the  permission  of  printing  every  year  a 
single  volume  of  my  comedies.  From  this  singular 
permission  I  discovered  that  Medebac  counted  upon 
my  remaining  attached  to  him  during  my  whole  life  ; 
but  I  waited  the  expiration  of  my  fifth  year  to  take 
my  leave  of  him.  I  gave  the  manuscripts  of  four  of 
my  pieces  to  Antonio  Bettinelli,  the  bookseller,  who 
undertook  the  first  edition  of  my  "  Theatre,"  and  pub- 
lished the  first  volume  at  Venice  in  1751. 


CARLO   GOLDONL  281 

Our  company  were  to  pass  the  spring  and  summer 
at  Turin.  I  thought  that  a  change  of  air  and  the 
pleasure  of  the  journey  might  contribute  to  the  restora- 
tion of  my  health.  I  followed  the  company  at  my  own 
expense;  and,  in  the  intention  of  visiting  Genoa,  I 
took  my  dear  companion  along  with  me.  I  was  unac- 
quainted with  Turin,  which  I  found  a  delightful  place. 
The  uniformity  of  the  buildings  in  the  principal  streets 
produces  a  charming  effect.  The  scpuares  and  churches 
are  exceedingly  beautiful  ;  the  citadel  is  a  superb 
promenade  ;  and  the  royal  residences,  both  in  town  and 
country,  display  great  magnificence  and  taste.  The 
inhabitants  of  Turin  are  very  kind  and  polite:  they 
have  much  of  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  French, 
and  speak  the  language  familiarly  ;  and  on  the  arrh  al 
of  a  Milanese,  a  Venetian,  or  a  Genoese,  they  are  in 
the  habit  of  saying,  "He  is  an  Italian." 

My  pieces  were  represented  at  Turin  with  applause, 
to  crowded  audiences  ;  but  there  were  a  set  of  singular 
beings,  who,  at  every  one  of  my  productions,  observed, 
"  This  is  good,  but  it  is  not  Molière."  This  was  doing 
me  more  honor  than  I  deserved,  for  it  had  never  en- 
tered into  my  head  to  compare  myself  with  the  French 
author.  I  knew  that  those  who  pronounced  this  vague 
and  ridiculous  judgment,  merely  went  to  the  theatre 
for  the  sake  of  making  the  circuit  of  the  boxes,  and 
indulging  in  conversation.  I  was  acquainted  with 
Molière,  and  respected  this  master  of  the  art  as  highly 
as  the  Piedinontese,  and  I  was  seized  instantly  with  a 
desire  to  give  them  a  convincing  proof  of  it.  I  im- 
mediately composed  a  comedy  in  five  acts,  and  in  verse, 
without  masks  or  change  of  scene,  of  which  the  title 
and  principal  subject  were  Molière  himself.  The  argu- 
ment was  taken  from  two  anecdotes  of  his  private  life  : 


282  MEMOIRS   OF 

the  one,  his  projected  marriage  with  Isabelle,  the 
daughter  of  Bejard  ;  and  the  other,  the  prohibition  of 
his  "  Tartuffe."  These  two  historical  facts  accord  so 
well  together  that  the  unity  of  action  is  perfectly  ob- 
served. The  impostors  of  Paris,  alarmed  at  the  comedy 
of  "  Molière,"  knew  that  the  author  had  sent  to  the 
camp,  where  Louis  XIV.  then  was,  to  obtain  permis- 
sion for  its  representation,  and  they  were  afraid  lest  the 
revocation  of  the  prohibition  should  be  obtained.  I 
employed  in  my  piece  a  person  of  the  name  of  Pirlon, 
a  hypocrite  in  every  sense  of  the  word,  who  introduces 
himself  into  the  authors  house,  discovers  to  La  Bejard 
Molière's  love  for  her  daughter,  of  which  she  was  yet 
ignorant,  engages  her  to  quit  her  companion  and 
director;  behaves  in  the  same  manner  to  Isabelle, 
holding  up  to  her  the  situation  of  an  actress  as  the  road 
to  perdition,  and  endeavors  to  deceive  La  Foret,  their 
waiting- woman,  who,  more  adroit  than  her  mistresses, 
dupes  the  duper,  inspires  him  with  a  love  for  her,  and 
takes  his  cloak  and  hat  from  him  to  give  to  Molière, 
who  appears  on  the  stage  with  the  dress  of  the  impos- 
tor. I  was  bold  enough  to  exhibit  in  my  piece  a  much 
more  marked  hypocrite  than  that  of  Molière;  but  hypo- 
crites had  then  lost  a  great  deal  of  their  ancient  credit 
in  Italy.  During  the  interval  between  the  fourth  and 
last  acts  of  my  comedy,  the  "  Tartuffe  n  of  Molière  is 
acted  on  the  theatre  of  the  Hôtel  de  Bourgogne  ;  all 
the  characters  of  my  piece  make  their  appearance  in 
the  fifth  act.  for  the  purpose  of  complimenting  Molière: 
Pirlon,  concealed  in  a  closet,  where  lie  was  expecting 
La  Foret,  is  forced  to  come  forth  in  the  presence  of  all 
th«-  spectators,  ami  is  assailed  with  the  sarcasms  which 
In-  bo  richly  deserved;  and  Molière,  to  add  to  his  joy 
and  happiness,  marries  Isabelle,  in  spite  of  the  mother, 
who  aspired  to  the  conquest  of  her  future  son-in-law. 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  283 

In  this  piece  are  to  be  found  several  details  of  the 
life  of  Molière.  The  character  of  Valerio  is  Baron,  an 
actor  of  Molière's  company.  Leander  is  a  copy  of  La 
Chapelle,  a  friend  of  the  author,  and  often  mentioned 
in  the  account  of  his  life  ;  and  Count  Lasca  is  one  of 
the  Piedmontese  who  judged  of  pieces  without  seeing 
them,  and  instituted  an  awkward  comparison  between 
the  Venetian  and  French  authors,  that  is  to  say,  be- 
tween the  scholar  and  the  master.  This  work  is  in 
verse  :  I  had  composed  tragi-comedies  in  blank  verse, 
but  this  is  the  first  comedy  which  I  composed  in  rhyme. 
As  its  subject  was  a  French  author,  who  wrote  largely 
in  that  style,  it  became  necessary  to  imitate  him;  and 
I  found  nothing  that  approached  the  Alexandrines  but 
the  Martellian  verses,  of  which  I  have  already  spoken 
in  the  first  part  of  these  memoirs.  On  the  conclusion 
of  my  piece,  and  the  distribution  of  the  parts,  I  wit- 
nessed two  rehearsals  at  Turin,  and  set  out  for  Genoa 
without  seeing  it  acted.  The  actors,  and  a  few  of  the 
townspeople,  were  let  into  the  secret  of  the  character 
of  Count  Lasca.  I  charged  them  to  acquaint  me  with 
the  result  ;  and  I  learned,  a  few  days  afterwards,  that 
the  piece  had  the  greatest  success  ;  that  the  original  of 
the  criticism  was  discovered,  and  that  he  had  been 
candid  enough  to  avow  that  it  was  deserved. 

I  remained  the  whole  summer  at  Genoa,  leading  a 
most  delicious  and  completely  idle  life.  How  delight- 
ful it  is,  especially  after  much  severe  labor,  to  pass  a 
few  days  without  doing  anything!  But  the  autumn 
was  fast  approaching  ;  the  season  began  to  grow  more 
cool,  and  I  resumed  the  road  to  my  workshop. 

On  arriving  at  Venice,  I  found  my  first  volume  in 
print,  and  money  in  the  hands  of  my  bookseller.  I 
received  at  the  same  time  a  gold  watch,  a  box  of  the 


28-4  MEMOIRS    OF 

same  metal,  a  silver  board  with  chocolate,  and  four 
pair  of  Venice  ruffles.  These  were  presents  from 
those  to  win. m  I  had  dedicated  my  four  iirst  comedies. 
Medebac  arrived  a  few  days  after  me,  and  spoke  highly 
of  the  pleasure  which  "Molière"  gave  at  Turin.  I 
had  a  strong  desire  to  see  it  myself;  and  we  brought 
it  out  at  Venice  in  the  month  of  October,  175] .  This 
piece  contained  two  novelties,  the  subject  and  the 
versification;  for  the  Martellian  verses  were  at  that 
time  forgotten.  The  monotony  of  the  csesural  panse, 
the  great  frequency  of  the  rhyme,  and  the  perpetual 
recurrence  of  couplets,  disgusted  the  ears  of  the  Italians 
during  the  lifetime  of  the  inventor,  and  every  person 
was  prejudiced  against  me  for  pretending  to  revive 
a  mode  of  versification  already  proscribed.  But  the 
effect  gave  the  lie  to  this  anticipation  ;  my  verses  were 
equally  well  relished  with  the  piece,  and  "Molière" 
was  classed  by  the  public  voice  along  with  u  Pamela." 
Were  I  permitted  to  pronounce  my  own  opinion  of  the 
relative  worth  of  my  comedies,  I  should  have  a  great 
deal  to  say  in  favor  of  the  ll  Padre  di  Famiglia"  (Fa- 
ther of  a  Family)  ;  but,  taking  the  decision  of  the 
public  respecting  my  works  for  my  guide,  I  am  forced 
to  rank  it  only  in  the  second  class  of  my  comedies.  I 
bestowed  all  the  care  which  my  observation  and  my 
zeal  inspired  me  with  on  this  interesting  subject;  and 
I  was  even  tempted  to  call  my  piece  the  "  School  for 
Fathers  "  ;  but  great  masters  have  alone  a  right  to 
give  Schools;  and  I  might  possibly  be  deceived  as 
well  as  the  author  of  the  u  School  for  Widows."  I 
had  seen  in  the  world  indulgent  mothers,  unjust  step- 
mothers, spoiled  children,  and  dangerous  preceptors  ; 
I  grouped  all  these  different  objects  in  a  single  picture, 
and  in  the  conduct  of  a  wise  and  prudent  father,   I 


CARLO  GOLDONI.  285 

exhibited  a  strong  instance  of  the  proper  punishment 
of  vice  and  the  example  of  virtue.  In  this  comedy 
there  is  another  father,  by  way  of  episode,  who  con- 
tributes to  the  development  and  winding-up  of  the 
plot  This  father  has  two  daughters  j  the  one  brought 
up  at  home,  and  the  other  educated  at  an  aunt's,  by 
which  a  convent  is  meant,  as  this  word  dare  not,  in 
Italy,  be  pronounced  on  the  stage.  The  first  turns 
•  nit  well,  but  the  other  has  every  possible  defect  con- 
cealed under  the  mask  of  hypocrisy.  My  intention 
was  to  give  the  preference  to  a  domestic  education  ; 
and  this  was  perfectly  understood  by  the  public,  and 
met  with  their  approbation  To  this  moral  and  criti- 
cal piece  an  interesting  and  virtuous  subject  suc- 
ceeded, which  was  infinitely  relished,  and  which  the 
public  placed  in  the  first  class  of  my  productions  :  this 
was  "  The  Venetian  Advocate." 

In  my  comedy  of  "  The  Prudent  Man  "  I  had  given 
a  specimen  of  my  old  profession  of  criminal  advocate 
in  Tuscany  ;  in  the  present  I  wished  to  recall  to  the 
recollection  of  my  countrymen  that  I  had  also  been  a 
civil  practitioner  at  the  bar  of  Venice.  This  piece 
gave  universal  satisfaction;  and  my  brethren,  accus- 
tomed to  see  the  gown  ridiculed  in  the  old  comedies 
of  intrigue,  were  pleased  with  the  honorable  point  of 
view  in  which  I  now  exhibited  it.  Still,  however, 
the  intention  of  the  author  and  the  effect  of  the  work 
were  called  in  question  by  the  evil-disposed.  One 
person,  in  particular,  exclaimed  that  my  piece  was  an 
attack  on  the  bar  ;  that  my  protagonist  was  an  imagi- 
nary being,  whom  no  person  living  could  imitate  ;  and 
that  I  had  exhibited  an  incorruptible  advocate,  by  way 
of  drawing  the  public  attention  to  the  weakness  and 
avi  lity  of  so  many  others.     He  even  mentioned  the 


286  MEMOIRS    OF 

most  respectable  names  at  the  bar,  in  point  of  talents, 
as  those  wh<  >se  probity  was  the  most  to  be  suspected. 
It  will  scarcely  be  believed  that  the  author  of  the 
criticism  belonged  himself  to  this  respectable  body  ;  the 
fact,  however,  is  but  too  true  ;  and  this  audacious  man 
had  even  the  impudence  to  make  a  boast  of  it  :  he  was 
punished  by  universal  contempt,  and  obliged  to  change 
his  profession. 

Let  us  pass  from  one  fortunate  piece  to  another 
which  was  not  less  fortunate,  "II  Feudatario"  (The 
Feudatary)  •  the  principal  subject  of  which  is  a  pre- 
sumptive heiress  of  a  fief  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
strangers.  The  differences  between  the  lady  and  the 
possessor  of  the  estate  in  question  are  arranged  by  a 
marriage  between  these  two  persons;  but  the  piece 
contains  incidents  of  a  very  interesting  nature,  and  it 
is  enlivened  by  characters  and  scenes  of  a  comical, 
new,  and  original  description.  I  derived  this  provision 
of  ridicule  from  a  residence,  some  years  before,  at 
Sanguinetto,  a  fief  of  Count  Leoni,  in  the  Veronese, 
when  I  was  there  employed  by  that  nobleman  in  draw- 
ing up  a  legal  report.  I  know  not  whether  this  comedy 
is  equal  in  point  of  merit  to  the  "  Padre  di  Famiglia"; 
but  its  success  was  greater,  and  I  am  therefore  bound 
to  respect  the  opinion  of  my  judges. 

The  same  fortune  also  befell  the  u  Figlia  Obbedi- 
ente  "'  (Obedient  Daughter)  :  inferior  also  in  my  opinion 
to  the  "  Padre  di  Famiglia,"  but  which  was  equally 
successful  with  the  foregoing  comedy.  On  inquiring 
into  the  cause  of  this  phenomenon,  I  am  led  to  impute 
it  to  the  pleasure  received  from  the  comic  scenes  with 
which  the  two  last  plays  abound,  whereas  the  princi- 
pal merit  of  the  other  is  of  a  critical  and  moral  nature. 
This  is  a  proof  that  in  general  we  prefer  amusement  to 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  287 

instruction.  In  this  last  comedy  the  principal  subject 
is  far  from  being  very  interesting,  for  it  is  destitute  of 
suspension,  as  the  winding-up  of  the  plot  is  foreseen 
at  the  commencement  of  the  action.  It  owed  its  fortune 
entirely  to  the  original  and  very  comic  episodes  with 
which  it  abounded.  Rosaura,  the  heroine  of  the  play, 
sacrifices  her  love  to  her  respect  f  >r  her  father,  who 
docs  not  condemn  the  inclination  of  his  daughter;  but 
in  the  absence  of  her  lover  he  engages  her  to  a  rich 
stranger,  and  he  is  the  slave  of  his  word.  The  person 
to  whom  Rosaura  is  destined  by  her  father  is  of  so 
singular  a  character  that  it  would  have  been  thought 
improbable  and  unnatural  if  the  original  had  not  been 
recognized.  In  his  extravagance  there  is  nothing  to 
detract  either  from  his  morals  or  his  probity  :  he  is 
even  noble,  just,  and  generous  ;  but  his  manners,  his 
monosyllabic  conversation,  his  injudicious  prodigality, 
his  whimsical  though  sensible  reflections,  rendered  him 
highly  comic,  and  the  subject  of  general  conversation. 
How  could  I  lose  sight  of  such  an  original  ?  I  brought 
him  forward,  but  with  every  regard  to  decency,  and 
those  who  knew  him  and  were  even  attached  to  him 
could  not  complain  of  me.  Another  personage,  not 
so  noble,  but  not  less  comic,  contributed  to  increase 
the  amusement  of  the  comedy.  This  was  the  father 
of  a  dancer,  proud  of  the  wealth  of  his  daughter, 
derived,  as  he  said,  from  her  talents,  without  dero- 
gating from  her  virtue.  When  sick  at  Bologna,  I 
was  visited  in  my  convalescence  by  this  man,  who 
never  ceased  speaking  to  me  of  princes,  kings,  and  the 
like,  and  of  the  excessive  delicacy  of  his  daughter.  I 
returned  his  visit  as  soon  as  I  was  able  to  go  out. 
His  daughter  was  not  at  home  ;  but  he  showed  me  her 
plate.     "  Observe,"  said  he,  "all  these  silver  dishes; 


288  MEMOIBS   OF 

everything  is  silver  with  us,  even  the  very  warming- 
pan  is  silver."  Could  I  forget  the  father  satisfied, 
the  daughter  happy  ;  and  virtue  recompensed  ?  This 
episode  is  very  well  connected  in  the  piece  with  that 
of  the  extraordinary  man,  and  both  contributed  to  the 
success  of  the  obedient  daughter,  who  manies  her 
lover  with  the  approbation  of  her  father.  The  piece 
was  applauded,  and  with  it  we  closed  the  autumn 
of  1/51. 

V. 

During  the  Christinas  holidays,  an  adventure  took 
place  extremely  fortunate  for  Medebac,  and  agreeable 
for  myself.  Marliani,  the  Brighella  of  the  company, 
was  married;  and  his  wife,  who,  like  himself,  had 
been  a  rope-dancer,  was  a  very  pretty  and  amiable 
young  Venetian,  full  of  wit  and  talents,  and  with  the 
happiest  disposition  for  the  stage.  I  took  her  under 
my  care,  and  composed  a  piece  for  her  début.  Madame 
Medebac  supplied  me  with  interesting  and  affecting 
ideas  when  I  wished  for  comic  scenes  of  a  simple  and 
iunocent  description  ;  and  Madame  Marliani,  who  was 
lively,  witty,  and  naturally  artful,  gave  a  new  flight  to 
my  imagination,  and  encouraged  me  to  labor  in  that 
species  of  comedy  which  requires  a  display  of  finesse 
and  artifice. 

I  began  with  the  "  Serva  Amorosa,"  or  "  The  Gen- 
erous Waiting- Maid  "  ;  for  the  adjective  amoroso-a,  in 
Italian,  is  applied  to  friendship  as  well  as  love.  This 
piece  met  with  the  most  complete  success,  and  Cora- 
liua  was  very  much  applauded  in  it  ;  but  she  became 
all  at  once,  from  this  circumstance,  a  formidable  rival 
for  Madame  Medebac.  The  wife  of  the  director  was 
entitled  to  some  consolation  ;  and  it  was  our  duty,  be- 


CARLO   GOLDONL  289 

sides,  to  encourage  and  flatter  the  actress  who  for  three 
years  had  been  the  principal  support  of  our  theatre.  I 
gave  out,  therefore,  immediately,  a  comedy  expressly 
written  for  her,  called  "La  Moglie  Saggia"  (The  Sen- 
sible Wife).  The  piece  was  universally  and  con- 
stantly applauded,  and  the  directress  was  immediately 
cured  of  her  jeal  >us  frenzy. 

I  still  felt  at  that  time,  and  have  ever  since  con- 
tinued to  feel,  the  consequences  of  the  excessive  fatigue 
I  sustained  in  composing  my  sixteen  comedies.  I  re- 
quired a  change  of  air,  and  I  went  to  join  my  comedians 
at  Bologna.  On  my  arriva]  in  this  town  I  entered  a 
coffee-house  facing  the  church  of  St.  Petronius.  No 
one  knew  who  I  was.  A  few  minutes  after  my  en- 
trance, a  nobleman  of  that  country  came  in,  and 
addressing  himself  to  five  or  six  persons  of  his  ac- 
quaintance, seated  round  a  table,  he  said  to  them  in 
good  Bolognese,  "Have  you  heard  the  news,  un- 
friends ?  "  He  was  asked  what  he  alluded  to,  and  he 
answered,  "  Goldoui  has  just  arrived."  "  That  is  of  no 
consequence  to  me,"  said  one.  "  What  is  that  to  us?  " 
said  another.  The  third  answered  more  politely,  "I 
should  be  very  glad  to  see  him.''  "A  fine  object  to  see, 
truly  !  "  said  the  two  former.  "  He  is  the  author  of 
those  beautiful  comedies,"'  said  the  other.  Here  he 
was  interrupted  by  the  man  who  had  not  yet  spoken, 
and  who  exclaimed  aloud,  " 0  yes,  the  great  author! 
the  magnificent  author,  who  has  suppressed  masks  and 
ruined  comedy  !  ''  At  that  moment  Doctor  Fiume 
arrived,  who  said,  while  he  embraced  me,  ';  Welcome, 
my  dear  Goldoni."  The  person  who  had  expressed  a 
desire  to  know  me  advanced  towards  me,  and  the 
others  stole  out  one  by  one  without  saying  a  word. 
I  was   highly   amused   with  this  little  scene.     I  was 


290  MEMOIRS   OF 

glad  to  see  the  doctor,  who  some  years  before  had 
been  my  physician,  and  I  made  the  best  return  I  could 
to  the  polite  Bolognese,  who  had  expressed  so  good  an 
opinion  of  me.  We  all  went  out  together  to  call  on 
the  Marquis  d'Albergati  Capacelli,  a  senator  of  Bo- 
logna. 

This  nobleman,  well  known  in  the  republic  of  let- 
ters, from  his  translations  of  several  French  tragedies, 
from  several  good  comedies  of  his  own  composition, 
and  still  more  from  the  high  opinion  entertained  of 
him  by  Voltaire,  independently  of  his  science  and  his 
genius,  possessed  an  admirable  talent  for  theatrical 
declamation.  There  were  no  actors  or  amateurs  then 
in  Italy  who  equalled  him  in  representing  tragedy 
heroes,  or  lovers  iu  comedy.  His  country,  whose  de- 
light he  was.  had  the  pleasure  of  enjoying  his  talents 
sometimes  at  Zola  and  sometimes  at  Medicina,  his  es- 
tates :  where  he  was  seconded  by  male  and  female 
amateurs,  whom  he  animated  by  his  intelligence  aud 
experience.  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  contribute  to 
his  pleasure,  having  composed  five  pieces  for  his 
theatre,  of  which  I  shall  give  some  account  at  the  end 
of  this  second  part.  M.  d'  Albergati  always  showed 
great  kindness  and  friendship  for  me.  I  made  his 
honse  my  home  whenever  I  went  to  Bologna,  and,  in 
our  present  distance  from  each  other,  he  has  not  for- 
gotten me.  having  addressed  one  of  his  comedies  to 
me,  preceded  by  a  very  charming  epistle,  with  which  I 
have  every  reason  to  be  highly  flattered. 

During  my  stay  in  Bologna  I  did  not  lose  my  time, 
I  labored  for  my  theatre,  and  composed,  among  other 
things,  a  comedy  entitled  "I  Pontigli  Domestici,''  (The 
Domestic  Disputes),  with  which  we  opened,  at  Venice, 
the  comic   year  1752.     I  passed  from  an  interesting 


CARLO  GOLDONL  201 

subject  to  one  of  a  comic  nature.  I  had  seen  a  very 
rich  man  with  an  only  daughter,  win»  was  young  and 
pretty,  and  who  possessed  a  line  talent  f<>r  poetry,  to 
whose  marriage  he  would  not  give  his  consent,  that  he 
might  have  the  sole  enjoyment  of  this  charming  muse. 
He  held  literary  assemblies  in  his  house.  Every  one 
went  with  pleasure  for  the  sake  of  the  daughter;  but 
the  ridiculous  behavior  of  the  father  was  quite  insuffer- 
able.  When  the  young  lady  recited  her  verses,  this 
infatuated  man  used  to  rise  from  his  seat:  he  would 
look  about  him  to  the  right  and  left,  and  enjoin  strict 
silence.  A  sneeze  discomposed  him  ;  he  was  offended 
if  snuff  were  taken  f  and  he  exhibited  such  a  variety  of 
gestures  and  contortions,  that  it  was  the  most  difficult 
thing  in  the  world  to  refrain  from  laughter.  When  the 
verses  of  the  daughter  were  finished  the  father  was  the 
first  to  applaud  them,  and  then  he  left  the  circle. 
Without  the  smallest  consideration  for  those  poets  who 
were  reciting  their  compositions,  he  went  behind  the 
chairs  of  all  present,  expressing  himself  loudly,  and 
with  the  utmost  indecorum,  in  such  terms  as  these: 
"  Did  you  hear  my  daughter  .;  What  do  you  think  of 
her  ?  This  is  quite  another  thing  !  "  I  was  several 
times  present  at  scenes  of  this  nature;  but  the  last 
which  I  witnessed  took  rather  au  unfortunate  turn  :  for 
the  authors  quarrelled  in  good  earnest,  and  quitted  the 
place  very  abruptly.  This  foolish  father  determined  i  m 
a  journey  to  Rome,  that  his  daughter  might  be  crowned 
in  the  capitol.  He  was  prevented  by  the  relations  of 
the  family;  and  the  government  having  at  length  in- 
terfered in,  the  business,  the  lady  was  married  in  spite 
of  him;  the  consequence  of  which  was.  that  fifteen 
days  afterwards  he  fell  sick  and  died  of  chagrin. 

On  this  anecdote  I  composed  a  comedy  under  the 


292  MEMOIRS    OF 

title  of  <kIl  Poeta  Fanatico"  (The  Fanatical  Poet),  in 
which  I  was  induced  to  give  the  father  aise  a  taste  of 
some  kind  or  other  for  poetry,  for  the  sake  of  throwing 
more  gayety  into  the  piece  :  this  work,  however,  is  by 
no  means  equal  to  the  "  Metromanie  "  of  Piron  ;  but,  on 
the  contrary,  one  of  my  most  indifferent  comedies.  It 
met,  however,  with  some  suet-ess  at  Venice  ;  but  this 
was  owing  to  the  entertainment  which  I  had  thrown 
into  the  principal  subject.  Collalto  acted  a  young  im- 
provisatore,  and  in  the  delivery  of  his  verses  pleased 
by  the  graces  of  his  singing.  The  servant  was  also  a 
poet,  and  his  compositions  and  burlesque  impromptus 
were  very  amusing;  but  a  comedy  without  interest, 
intrigue,  or  suspense,  notwithstanding  the  beauties  of 
particular  parts,  is  still,  after  all,  a  poor  piece.  Why 
was  it  printed  then  ?  Because  the  booksellers  lay  hold 
of  everything,  without  so  much  as  consulting  the  au- 
thors, even  during  their  own  lifetime. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  Christmas  holidays  of  the  year 
1751,  it  became  time  to  put  Medebac  in  mind  that  the 
end  of  our  engagement  was  approaching,  and  to  give 
him  notice  not  to  rely  on  me  for  the  following  year. 
I  spoke  to  him  in  an  amicable  way,  and  without  any 
formality.  He  answered  me  very  politely  that  he  was 
sorry  for  it,  but  that  I  was  the  master  of  my  own  in- 
clinations. He  did  his  utmost,  however,  to  induce  me 
to  remain  with  him,  and  even  sent  several  of  his  friends 
to  speak  to  me  on  the  subject  ;  but  my  resolution  was 
firmly  fixed  ;  and  during  the  ten  days  of  relaxation  I 
entered  into  an  agreement  with  his  excellency  Ven- 
dramini,  a  noble  Venetian,  and  proprietor  of  the  the- 
atre of  St.  Luke. 

I  had  still  to  labor  for  the  theatre  of  St.  Angelo 
till  the  close  of  1752:   and  I  discharged  my  duty  so 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  293 

well  that  I  gave  more  pieces  to  the  director  than  he 
had  time  to  act,  and  he  had  some  remaining  which  he 
used  after  our  separation.  Madame  Medebac  was  still 
unwell  ;  her  ill-humors  became  every  day  more  trouble- 
some and  ridiculous  :  she  laughed  and  wept  in  the 
same  instant,  and  uttered  cries  and  exhibited  grim- 
aces and  contortions.  The  good  people  of  the  family 
thought  her  bewitched,  and  sent  for  exorcists.  She 
was  loaded  with  relics,  and  played  with  these  pious 
monuments  like  a  child  of  four  years  of  age.  Seeing 
the  principal  actress  unable  to  appear  on  the  stage,  I 
composed,  at  the  opening  of  the  carnival,  a  comedy  for 
Coralina.  Madame  Medebac  made  her  appearance  in 
good  health  on  Christmas  Day  ;  but  ou  hearing  that 
"  La  Locandiera,"  a  new  piece,  composed  for  Coralina, 
was  given  out  for  the  following  day,  she  took  to  her 
bed  again  with  a  new  species  of  fits,  which  completely 
exhausted  the  patience  of  her  mother,  husband,  rela- 
tions, and  servants.  We  opened  the  theatre  then  on 
the  26th  of  December  with  "  La  Locandiera,"  a  word 
derived  from  locanda,  which  has  the  same  signification 
in  Italian  as  hôtel  garni  in  French.  There  is  no  word, 
however,  in  the  French  language  to  indicate  the  man 
or  woman  who  keeps  one  of  those  hotels  ;  and  in 
translating  this  piece  into  French  it  would  be  neces- 
sary to  take  the  title  from  the  character,  and  call  it 
"The  Dexterous  Woman7'  (Femme  Adroite).  The 
success  of  this  piece  was  so  brilliant  that  it  was  not 
only  placed  on  a  level  with,  but  even  preferred  to  every- 
thing which  I  had  yet  done  in  that  species  of  comedy 
where  artifice  supplies  the  place  of  interest.  It  would 
perhaps  be  scarcely  credited,  without  reading  it,  that 
the  projects,  proceedings,  and  triumph  of  the  heroine 
of  the  piece  could  all  take  place,  with  probability,  in 


294  MEMOIRS   OF 

the  space  of  twenty-four  hours.  I  was  perhaps  flat- 
tered in  Italy  ;  but  I  was  told  that  it  was  the  most 
natural  and  best  conducted  of  all  my  pieces,  and  that 
the  action  was  completely  supported  and  perfect  in 
every  respect. 

From  the  jealousy  with  which  Madame  Medebac 
viewed  the  progress  of  Coralina,  this  last  piece,  one 
might  have  thought,  would  have  killed  her  outright  ; 
but  as  her  disorder  was  quite  singular  in  its  kind,  she 
quitted  her  bed  in  two  days  and  demanded  the  repre- 
sentation of  the  "  Locandiera"  to  be  stopped  for  the 
purpose  of  again  giving  out  "  Pamela."  The  public 
was  not  highly  satisfied  with  this  ;  but  the  director  did 
not  think  proper  to  oppose  the  desire  of  his  wife,  and 
"Pamela"  appeared  again  on  the  theatre  after  the 
fourth  representation  of  a  fortunate  and  new  comedy. 
These  little  pieces  of  kindness  will  every  now  and  then 
take  place  where  despotism  disdains  to  yield  to  reason. 
For  my  part  I  had  nothing  to  say  in  the  business  ;  the 
dispute  related  to  two  of  my  daughters,  and  I  was  a 
tender  father  to  both  the  one  and  the  other. 


VI. 

I  passed  from  the  theatre  of  St.  Angelo  to  that 
of  St.  Luke,  where  there  was  no  director,  but  where 
the  actors  shared  the  receipts  ;  and  the  proprietor  of 
the  house,  who  enjoyed  the  benefit  of  the  boxes,  paid 
their  salaries  in  proportion  to  their  merits,  or  the 
length  of  their  services.  This  patrician  was  the  per- 
son with  whom  I  had  to  act.  I  gave  him  my  pieces, 
which  were  instantly  paid  for,  before  even  being  read. 
My  emoluments  were  almost  doubled  ;  I  enjoyed  the 
full   liberty   of  printing   my   works,    and   I    was   not 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  295 

obliged  to  follow  the  company  to  the  continent.  My 
situation  was  therefore  become  much  more  lucrative, 
and  at  the  same  time  infinitely  more  honorable. 

But  what  is  there  in  this  world  without  its  disad- 
vantages !  The  principal  actress  of  the  company  was 
almost  fifty.  They  had  lately  received  a  charming 
Florentine,  but  for  second  parts  only;  and  I  ran  the 
risk  of  being  obliged  to  give  subordinate  characters  to 
this  young  woman,  and  those  of  lovers  to  the  old 
actress.  Madame  Gandini,  the  first  actress,  had  the 
good  sense  to  do  herself  justice  ;  but  her  husband 
declared,  in  high  terms,  that  he  would  not  allow  his 
wife  to  sustain  the  slightest  injury;  and  the  proprietor 
of  the  theatre,  who  had  the  right  to  decide,  was  afraid 
of  discharging  two  old  persons,  to  whom  the  company 
had  been  much  indebted. 

I  spoke  to  M.  Gandini  in  private,  and  asked  him 
how  long  he  thought  his  wife  capable  of  enjoying  her 
situation  and  her  profits.  "My  wife,"  said  he,  "may 
yet  shine  on  the  stage  for  these  ten  years."  "Very 
well,"  said  I  ;  "I  am  authorized  by  the  proprietors  to 
secure  to  Madame  Gandini  her  salary  and  her  situation 
for  the  space  of  ten  years.  I  engage,  for  my  part,  to 
bring  her  forward  in  characters  calculated  to  gain 
applause  ;  but  then  you  must  leave  me  at  liberty  to 
employ  her  as  I  please."  "No,  sir,"  he  answered 
abruptly;  "my  wife  is  the  principal  actress,  and  I 
would  rather  be  hanged  than  see  her  degraded."  .So 
saying,  he  turned  his  back  to  me  in  a  rude  and  indec- 
orous manner.  I  swore  that  I  would  be  even  with 
him  ;  and  you  will  see,  in  the  third  piece  of  this  year, 
whether  I  kept  my  word. 

The  company  were  to  pass  the  spring  and  summer 
at  Leghorn,  and  I  calculated  on  remaining  at  Venice, 


296  MEMOIRS   OF 

where  my  first  object  was  to  look  after  the  edition  of 
my  works.  The  two  first  volumes  had  been  published 
by  Bettinelli  the  bookseller,  and  I  was  on  the  point  of 
taking  the  manuscript  of  the  third  to  him  ;  but  what 
was  my  astonishment  when  I  was  told  by  this  phleg- 
matic man.  with  the  most  chilling  indifference,  that  he 
could  no  longer  receive  any  more  copy  from  me  ;  that 
he  was  to  receive  it  from  the  hands  of  Medebac;  and 
that  he  was  to  continue  the  edition  on  account  of  this 
comedian.  On  recovering  from  my  surprise,  and  when 
my  indignation  was  succeeded  by  a  calm.  "  Take  care, 
friend,"  said  I  to  him;  "yon  are  not  rich,  and  have 
children  ;  do  not  ruin  yourself,  do  not  force  me  to  ruin 
you."  He  persisted,  however,  in  his  resolution.  Bet- 
tinelli. whom  I  had  too  early,  perhaps,  allowed  to 
receive  the  privilege  of  printing  my  works,  had  been 
gained  over  by  money  :  and  I  had  therefore  to  contend 
against  the  director,  who  contested  the  right  of  prop- 
erty of  my  pieces,  and  against  the  bookseller,  who 
was  empowered  to  publish  them. 

I  should,  without  doubt,  have  gained  my  suit,  but 
this  would  have  required  litigation,  and  chicanery  is 
the  same  all  the  world  over.  I  took  the  shortest 
method;  for  I  went  instantly  to  Florence,  and  com- 
menced a  new  edition,  leaving  Medebac  and  Bettinelli 
at  liberty  to  continue  the  one  at  Venice  :  but  I  pub- 
lished a  prospectus  which  threw  both  of  them  into 
consternation  ;  for  I  announced  corrections  and  altera- 
tions. I  applied  at  Florence  to  a  M.  Paperini,  a  very 
respectable  printer  and  a  worthy  man.  We  con- 
cluded our  agreement  in  two  hours'  time,  and  in  the 
month  of  May,  1753,  we  had  the  first  volume  in  the 
press.  This  fortunate  edition  of  ten  volumes,  octavo, 
by  subscription,  and  at  my  expense,  was  extended  to 


CARLO   GOLDO'I.  297 

seventeen  hundred  copies  ;  and  on  the  publication  of 
the  sixth  volume,  it  was  completely  filled  up.  I  had 
five  hundred  subscribers  at  Venice,  and  the  entry  of 
my  edition  was  prohibited  in  the  territories  of  the 
republic.  This  proscription  of  my  works  in  my  own 
country  may  appear  singular  ;  but  it  was  a  mere  affair 
of  commerce.  Bettinelli  had  found  protectors  to  se- 
cure to  him  his  exclusive  privilege,  and  the  body  of 
booksellers  seconded  him,  because  mine  was  a  foreign 
edition. 

Notwithstanding,  however,  this  prohibition,  and  all 
the  precautions  of  my  adversaries,  every  time  that  one 
of  my  volumes  issued  from  the  press,  five  hundred 
copies  were  despatched  to  Venice.  An  asylum  for 
them  had  been  found  on  the  banks  of  the  Po  ;  a  com- 
pany of  noble  Venetians  went  in  quest  of  the  contra- 
band commodity  to  the  Venetian  confines,  introduced 
it  into  the  capital,  and  made  the  distribution  in  open 
day;  for  the  government  would  not  interfere  in  an 
affair  which  was  more  ridiculous  than  interesting. 

When  I  was  at  Florence,  and  my  new  company  at 
Leghorn,  I  visited  them  occasionally,  and  put  into 
the  hands  of  the  principal  actress  two  comedies  which 
I  found  leisure  to  compose,  notwithstanding  the  fa- 
tiguing and  assiduous  attention  which  my  edition  re- 
quired from  me.  We  all  met  at  Venice  in  the  begin- 
ning of  the  month  of  October,  and  the  first  new  piece 
which  we  gave  was  "  L'Avaro  Geloso"  (The  Jealous 
Miser).  I  drew  the  protagonist  of  this  piece  from 
nature.  I  became  acquainted  with  his  portrait  and 
his  history  at  Florence,  where  this  man  lived  to  the 
disgrace  of  humanity.  He  was  charged  with  two 
vices  equally  odious,  but  which,  from  the  contrast 
between  his  passions,  placed  him  in  highly  comic  situ- 


298  MEMOIRS    OF 

ations.  The  infamy  of  this  character  is  calculated  to 
excite  disgust  ;  however,  the  piece  would  still  have 
succeeded,  but  the  actor  to  whom  the  part  was  in- 
trusted was  exceedingly  deformed,  and  in  no  estima- 
tion with  the  public.  I  thought  I  acted  properly  in 
choosing,  for  a  wicked  character,  a  man  who  answered 
that  description  pretty  well  himself,  and  I  imagined 
that  his  leanness,  his  ill  looks,  and  his  broken  voice 
would  suit  tolerably  well  with  the  part.  In  this, 
however,  I  was  much  deceived.  Some  time  after- 
wards I  gave  the  same  part  to  Rubini,  who  acted  the 
Venetian  characters  :  and  the  same  piece,  which  com- 
pletely failed  at  its  début,  became  afterwards  one  of 
the  favorite  pieces  of  that  excellent  actor. 

My  enemies,  who  were  not  sorry  at  the  unfortunate 
issue  of  my  first  piece,  and  the  partisans  of  the  thea- 
tre of  St.  Angelo,  observed,  with  a  sort  of  malicious 
joy,  that  I  would  repent  having  quitted  a  company  to 
whom  I  was  indebted  for  the  success  of  my  works. 
None  of  these  observations  gave  me  the  smallest  un- 
easiness. I  was  sure  of  silencing  them  with  my  third 
piece  ;  but  in  the  mean  time  I  was  in  great  apprehen- 
sion for  the  second,  which  I  was  about  to  give.  This 
was  the  "  Donna  di  Testa  Debole,  6  la  Yedova  Infatu- 
ata"  (The  Silly  Woman,  or  Infatuated  Widow).  The 
piece  fell  at  its  first  representations,  as  I  had  foreseen  ; 
and  I  unfortunately  saw  my  prognostication  too  well 
verified. 

I  perceived,  when  it  was  too  late,  the  circumstances 
which  were  unfavorable  for  me  and  my  comedians. 
They  were  not  yet  sufficiently  instructed  in  the  new 
method  necessary  for  my  comedies  :  I  had  not  yet  had 
time  to  infuse  into  them  the  taste,  tone,  or  natural 
and  expressive  manner  which  distinguished  the  actors 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  299 

of  the  theatre  of  St.  Angelo.  Another  circumstance 
was  still  more  remarkable.  The  theatre  of  St.  Luke 
was  much  larger,  and  from  that  circumstance  every- 
thing simple  and  delicate  in  action,  everything  refined, 
agreeable,  and  truly  comic,  lost  much  of  its  attrac- 
tion. It  was  natural  to  suppose  that  the  public  in 
time  would  reconcile  themselves  to  the  situation,  and 
listen  with  more  attention  to  regular  and  natural 
pieces  ;  but  it  was  requisite  to  make  a  strong  impres- 
sion at  first  by  vigorous  subjects,  by  actions  which, 
without  being  gigantic,  rose  above  the  level  of  ordi- 
nary comedy. 

This  was  my  first  project  ;  but  the  publication  of  my 
works  did  not  leave  me  the  master  of  my  wishes,  and 
it  was  not  till  my  third  piece  that  I  made  the  requisite 
effort  of  imagination  to  install  myself  with  honor  in  the 
new  theatre,  where  I  had  to  carry  through  reform  and 
support  my  reputation.  Having  this  object  in  view,  I 
looked  out  for  a  subject  capable  of  supplying  me  with 
comic  and  interesting  situations  and  showy  exhibitions. 
I  had  perused  the  modern  history  of  Salmon,  translated 
from  the  English  into  Italian  :  but  I  did  not  find  there 
the  fable  which  forms  the  subject  of  my  piece.  In 
that  instructive  work,  however,  I  acquired  information 
respecting  the  laws,  manners,  and  customs  of  the  Per- 
sians ;  and  from  the  details  of  the  English  author,  I 
composed  a  comedy  entitled  '  '  La  Sposa  Persiana n 
(The  Persian  Spouse). 

The  subject  of  this  piece  is  not  heroic  :  a  rich  finan- 
cier of  Ispahan,  of  the  name  of  Machmout,  engages 
and  forces  Thamas,  his  son,  to  marry  against  his  will, 
Fatima,  the  daughter  of  Osman,  an  officer  of  rank  in 
the  army  of  the  Sophi.  This  is  what  we  every  day 
see  in  our  pieces  ;  a  young  lady  betrothed  to  a  young 


300  MEMOIRS    OF 

man  whose  heart  is  already  preoccupied.  However, 
the  names  of  Fatima,  Machmout,  and  Thamas  began  to 
lead  the  public  to  expect  something  extraordinary  ;  and 
the  saloon  of  the  financier  furnished  with  a  sofa  and 
cushions  in  the  Mahometan  style,  and  the  dresses 
and  turbans  in  the  Oriental  costume,  announced  a 
strange  nation,  and  whatever  is  strange  naturally  ex- 
cites curiosity.  Thamas  had  a  Circassian  slave  of  the 
name  of  Hircana,  to  whom  he  was  tenderly  attached, 
and  who,  notwithstanding  her  servitude,  proudly  re- 
fused to  allow  her  lover  and  master  to  share  her  favors 
with  other  women,  not  even  with  the  one  his  father 
destined  for  his  spouse.  This  comedy  was  highly  suc- 
cessful, and  was  represented  so  long  that  some  curious 
individuals  had  time  to  transcribe  it,  and  it  appeared 
in  print  without  a  date  some  time  afterwards. 

I  owed  the  flattering  reception  of  this  piece  to  Madame 
Bresciani,  who  acted  the  character  of  Hircana,  and  for 
whom  I  had  conceived  and  executed  it.  Gandini  would 
not  allow  the  prerogatives  of  his  wife  to  be  encroached 
on  ;  and  this  would  have  been  all  very  well  if  Madame 
Gandini  had  not  been  on  the  verge  of  fifty  ;  but  to 
avoid  disputes,  I  gave  a  character  to  the  second  actress 
greatly  superior  to  that  of  the  first.  I  was  highly  rec- 
ompensed for  my  pains  ;  for  it  was  impossible  to  rep- 
resent a  strong  and  interesting  passion  with  more  force, 
energy,  and  truth  than  was  displayed  by  Madame  Bres- 
ciani in  this  important  character.  This  actress,  who, 
to  her  talents  and  information,  added  the  advantage  of 
a  sonorous  voice  and  a  charming  pronunciation,  pro- 
duced such  an  impression  in  this  fortunate  comedy, 
that  she  always  went  afterwards  by  the  name  of  Hir- 
cana. The  interest  taken  by  the  public  in  the  charac- 
ter of  Hircana  might  lead  to  a  suspicion  that  I  had 


CARLO  GOLDONI.  301 

mistaken  the  title  of  the  piece,  or  weakened  the  prin- 
cipal action.  Fatiina,  however,  is  the  protagonist, 
and  Hircana  the  antagonist  ;  but  the  illusion  was  not 
in  unison  with  this  arrangement,  and  thé  slave  of 
twenty-five  triumphed  over  the  spouse  of  fifty. 

The  public,  always  attached  to  the  charming  Cir- 
cassian, was  sorry  to  see  her  leave  the  stage  with  a 
sigh,  and  would  have  wished  to  know  whither  she  went 
and  what  became  of  her.  I  was  asked  for  the  sequel 
to  the  "  Persian  Spouse,"  and  yet  it  was  not  the  spouse 
which  interested  the  curious.  I  should  have  willingly 
contented  them,  but  could  not.  Gandini  was  piqued 
against  the  public  and  against  me,  whom  he  accused 
of  having  played  him  a  cursed  trick  ;  for  I  had  had, 
he  said,  the  diabolical  art  to  sacrifice  his  wife  without 
his  perceiving  it.  It  was  not  my  intention  to  injure 
hiin.  I  merely  wished  to  force  him  to  accept  the  ad- 
vantageous offer  which  I  proposed  to  him,  and  I  was 
in  reality  doing  him  a  service,  notwithstanding  his 
brutality.  More  obstinate  than  ever,  this  unreasonable 
man  informed  the  proprietor  of  the  theatre  that  his  wife 
would  not  act  in  the  sequel  to  the  "  Persian  Spouse,"  of 
which  he  had  heard.  He  met  with  a  very  unfavorable 
reception  from  his  excellency  Vendramini  ;  and  the 
comedian,  who  could  not  give  vent  to  his  rage  against 
his  superior,  took  his  watch  to  pieces  and  threw  it,  as 
he  left  the  house,  against  a  glass  door,  which  he  broke. 
But  he  did  still  worse  than  this  ;  he  went  to  the  Saxon 
minister,  who  was  in  want  of  actors  for  King  Augustus 
of  Poland,  and  engaged  himself  and  his  wife  for  Dres- 
den. Both  of  them  immediately  disappeared  without 
the  least  notice.  No  one  was  disposed  to  regret  them, 
and  least  of  all  myself  ;  for  by  their  departure  I  was 
left  in  perfect  freedom  to  labor  as  I  pleased,  and  I  ac- 


302  MEMOIRS   OF 

cordingly  gratified  m  y  countrymen  with  the  sequel  which 
was  so  much  desired  by  them. 

I  entitled  the  second  piece  on  this  subject,  "  Hircana 
at  Julia."  Julfa,  or  Zulfa,  is  a  town  a  league  distant 
from  Ispahan,  and  inhabited  by  a  colony  of  Armenians, 
whom  Schah-Abas  invited  into  Persia  for  the  advan- 
tage of  trade.  Hircana,  forced  to  leave  Ispahau,  forms 
the  resolution  of  repairing  to  Julfa,  where  at  last 
Thamas  makes  her  an  offer  of  his  hand.  Her  joy  is 
at  its  height.  They  are  now  both  satisfied  ;  and  the 
public  thanked  me  with  reiterated  applauses  for  having 
terminated  the  catastrophe  of  Hircana  in  a  satisfactory 
manner.  But,  next  day,  the  very  same  public  were 
asking  if  this  spouse  of  Thamas  was  to  be  happy,  if 
Machmout  would  pardon  his  son  for  all  the  displeasure 
he  had  caused  him  to  experience,  and  if  he  would  re- 
ceive favorably  a  woman  who  had  thrown  his  house 
into  trouble  and  desolation.  The  novel,  it  was  said, 
was  greatly  advanced,  but  not  yet  finished.  I  was 
aware  of  this  also,  and  had  foreseen  the  consequence 
so  well,  that  I  had  a  third  piece  quite  arranged  in  my 
imagination,  which  I  gave  the  following  year  under  the 
title  of  "  Hircana  at  Ispahan."  This  was  so  successful 
that  it  greatly  surpassed  the  two  others,  still  possessing 
the  same  interest,  and  leaving  nothing  more  to  be 
desired  by  the  friends  of  the  Circassian. 

This  third  Persian  comedy  did  not  make  its  appear- 
ance on  the  stage  till  a  year  after  the  second,  and  three 
years  after  the  first  ;  but  I  have  placed  them  here  in 
succession,  that  my  readers  may  have  a  distinct  view 
at  once  of  the  three  different  actions  on  the  same  sub- 
ject.   The  success  of  the  last  was  even  greater,  if  pos- 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  303 


VII. 

I  MUST  return  to  the  year  1753,  from  which  I  was 
induced  to  wander,  that  I  might  not  interrupt  the  con- 
tinuity of  "The  Three  Persians."  The  public  de- 
manded verses  :  there  was  no  alternative  :  and  in  the 
eroding  carnival  1  gave  "  11  Filosofo  Inglese"  (The 
English  Philosopher).  The  theatre  represented  a 
street  in  the  city  of  Loudon,  with  a  coffee-house  and  a 
bookseller's  shop.  At  that  time  a  translation  of  the 
English  '*  Spectator,"  a  periodical  work,  was  in  the 
hands  of  everybody  at  Venice.  The  women  of  Venice, 
who  till  then  were  no  great  readers,  began  to  relish 
that  work,  and  to  become^  philosophers.  I  was  de- 
lighted to  see  criticism  and  instruction  admitted  to  the 
toilets  of  my  dear  countrywomen,  and  this  induced  me 
to  compose  the  piece  in  question. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1/54  I  received  a  letter 
from  my  brother.  For  twelve  years  I  had  had  no  news 
of  him  ;  and  he  gave  me  then  an  account  of  himself 
from  the  battle  of  Veletri,  in  which  he  was  present,  in 
the  suite  of  the  Duke  of  Modena,  to  the  day  in  which 
he  thought  proper  to  write  to  me.  This  letter  was 
dated  from  Rome,  in  which  city  he  had  married  the 
widow  of  a  lawyer,  by  whom  he  had  two  children  ;  a 
boy  of  eight  and  a  girl  of  five  years  of  age.  His  wife 
was  dead;  he  was  tired  of  residing  in  a  country  where 
military  men  were  neither  useful  nor  held  in  estima- 
tion ;  and  he  was  desirous  of  living  beside  his  brother, 
and  of  presenting  him  the  two  shoots  of  the  family  of 
Groldoni.  Far  from  being  piqued  at  a  silence  and 
neglect  of  twelve  years,  I  instantly  felt  an  interest  in 
these  two  children,  who  might  perhaps  stand  in  need 
of  my  assistance.     I  invited  my  brother  to  return  to 


304  MEMOIES    OF 

my  house  ;  I  wrote  to  Rome,  that  he  might  "be  supplied 
with  the  money  he  stood  iu  need  of;  and  in  the  month 
of  March  of  the  same  year  I  embraced  with  real  satis- 
faction this  brother,  whom  I  had  always  loved,  and 
my  niece  and  nephew,  whom  I  adopted  as  my  children. 
My  mother,  who  was  still  alive,  felt  a  lively  pleasure 
in  seeing  again  a  son  whom  she  no  longer  reckoned 
among  the  living  ;  and  my  wife,  whose  goodness  and 
sweetness  of  disposition  never  varied,  received  these 
two  children  as  her  own,  and  took  care  of  their  edu- 
cation. 

Surrounded  with  all  that  was  most  dear  to  me,  and 
contented  with  the  success  of  my  works,  I  was  one  of 
the  happiest  men  in  the  world  ;  but  I  was,  at  the  same 
time,  extremely  wearied.  I  was  still  suffering  from 
the  immense  fatigue  which  I  had  undergone  for  the 
theatre  of  St.  Angelo  ;  and  the  verses,  to  which  I 
had  unfortunately  accustomed  the  public,  cost  me  in- 
finitely more  trouble  than  prose.  My  spleen  began  to 
attack  me  with  more  than  usual  violence.  The  new 
family,  which  I  maintained  in  my  house,  rendered  my 
health  more  than  ever  necessary  to  me,  and  the  dread 
of  losing  it  augmented  my  complaint.  My  attacks 
were  as  much  of  a  physical  as  a  moral  nature.  Some- 
times my  imagination  was  heated  by  the  effervescence 
of  the  bodily  fluids,  and  sometimes  the  animal  economy 
was  deranged  by  apprehension.  Our  mind  is  so  inti- 
mately connected  with  our  body,  that  if  it  were  not  for 
reason,  which  belongs  to  the  immortal  soul,  we  should 
be  mere  machines.  In  my  present  state  I  required  ex- 
ercise and  amusement.  I  resolved  on  a  short  journey, 
and  I  took  all  my  family  with  me. 

On  my  arrival  at  Modena  I  was  attacked  with  a 
defluxion  in  mv  chest.     Evervbodv  was  in  an  alarm 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  305 

for  me,  but  I  was  nowise  alarmed  myself;  and  this  is 
the  way  in  which  I  have  been  all  my  lifetime  :  pos- 
sessing a  great  deal  of  courage  when  in  danger,  and 
suffering  from  ridiculous  apprehensions  when  in  good 
health.  I  got  rid  of  my  indisposition,  but  I  had  no 
time  for  amusement.  My  comedians  were  at  Milan, 
where  I  went  to  join  them  ;  having  my  wife,  my 
brother,  and  his  two  children,  always  along  with  me. 
The  expense  nowise  alarmed  me,  as  my  edition  went 
on  successfully,  and  money  poured  in  upon  me  from  all 
quarters.  Money  has  never  been  long  stationary  with 
me.  "  The  Persian  Spouse"  had  the  same  success  at 
Milan  as  at  Venice,  and  I  was  overwhelmed  with  praise, 
with  offers  of  friendship,  and  presents.  My  health  was 
improving,  my  spleen  subsided,  and  I  led  a  delicious 
life  ;  but  this  state  of  happiness,  prosperity,  and  tran- 
quillity was  not  of  long  duration. 

The  company  of  the  theatre  of  St.  Luke  made  an 
acquisition  of  an  excellent  actor,  of  the  name  of  An- 
geleri,  a  native  of  Milan,  who  had  a  brother  at  the  bar, 
and  whose  relatives  were  of  great  respectability  in  the 
middle  class  of  that  place.  This  man  was  subject  to 
fits  of  spleen,  and  I  had  several  conversations  with  him 
at  Venice  on  the  extravagance  of  our  malady.  I  met 
with  him  on  my  arrival  at  Milan,  and  found  him  worse 
than  ever.  He  was  tormented  between  the  desire  of 
displaying  the  superiority  of  his  talents  and  the  shame 
of  appearing  on  the  theatre  of  his  native  place.  He 
suffered  infinitely  from  seeing  his  companions  ap- 
plauded, and  having  no  share  himself  in  the  applause 
of  the  public.  This  spleen  gained  ground  every  day, 
and  the  conversations  which  we  had  together  tended 
also  to  excite  mine.  He  yielded  at  length  to  the  im- 
pulse of  his  genius,  and  exposed  himself  in  public.    He 


306  MEMOIRS   OF 

played  with  great  applause,  and,  on  returning  behind 
the  scenes,  he  dropped  down  dead.  The  stage  was 
empty  ;  the  actors  did  not  make  their  appearance  ;  the 
news  gradually  spread  ;  and  at  last  reached  the  box 
where  I  was.  "  0  heavens  !  Augeleri  dead  ?  My  com- 
panion in  spleen!"  I  rushed  out  like  a  madman,  and 
proceeded  without  knowing  where.  I  reached  home 
without  being  conscious  of  the  way  I  took.  Everybody 
perceived  my  agitation  ;  and  when  I  was  asked  the 
cause  of  it,  I  cried  out  repeatedly,  "  Angeleri  is  dead  !  " 
and  threw  myself  upon  my  bed.  My  wife,  who  knew 
my  disposition,  endeavored  to  tranquillize  me,  and  ad- 
vised me  to  be  bled.  I  believe  I  should  have  done  well 
to  have  followed  her  advice  ;  but  in  the  midst  of  the 
phantoms  which  harassed  me  to  a  degree  that  almost 
suspended  respiration,  I  was  still  sensible  of  my  folly, 
and  ashamed  of  having  yielded  to  it.  Notwithstanding 
my  endeavors  to  call  reason  to  my  assistance,  the  revo- 
lution was  so  violent  that  I  was  seized  with  real  illness, 
and  my  mind  was  more  difficult  to  cure  than  my  body. 

Doctor  Baronio,  my  physician,  after  frequently  em- 
ploying all  the  resources  of  his  profession,  cured  me 
thoroughly  one  day  by  an  advice  which  he  gave  me. 
"  Consider  your  disease,"  said  he,  "  in  the  light  of  a 
child  who  comes  forward  to  attack  you  with  a  drawn 
sword.  If  you  be  on  your  guard,  he  cannot  hurt  you; 
but  if  you  lay  open  your  breast  to  him,  the  child  will 
kill  you  !  "  This  apologue  restored  me  to  health,  and 
I  have  never  forgotten  it.  I  have  found  its  use  in 
every  stage  of  my  life  ;  for  this  cursed  child  sometimes 
threatens  me  yet,  and  it  costs  me  some  efforts  to  dis- 
arm him. 

During  the  progress  of  my  recovery  at  Modena,  and 
in  the  intervals  of  my  fits  at  Milan,  I  never  lost  sight 


CAELO   GOLDONI.  307 

of  my  theatre.  I  returned  to  Venice  with  a  sufficiency 
of  materials  for  the  year  1754  :  and  our  theatre  opened 
with  a  piece  called  "  La  Villégiatura  n  (The  Country 
Excursion).  I  had  observed,  in  my  journey,  a  number 
of  country  houses  along  the  banks  of  the  Brenta,  where 
all  the  pomp  of  luxury  was  displayed.  In  former  times 
our  ancestors  frequented  these  spots  for  the  sole  purpose 
of  collecting  their  property,  and  their  descendants  go 
there  merely  to  spend  theirs.  In  the  country  they  keep 
open  table,  play  high,  give  balls  and  theatrical  enter- 
tainments, and  the  Italian  cicisbeo  system  is  there  in- 
dulged without  disguise  or  constraint,  and  gains  more 
ground  than  elsewhere.  I  .gave  a  view  of  all  these 
circumstances  shortly  afterwards  in  three  consecutive 
pieces.  In  the  first  there  is  no  interest;  but  the  de- 
tails of  a  gallant  nature  are  very  amusing,  and  the 
variety  of  characters  introduced  gives  rise  to  incidents 
and  dialogues  of  a  highly  comic  nature,  and  furnishes 
an  opportunity  for  the  display  of  much  just  and  enter- 
taining criticism.  My  object  was  seen  through  and 
applauded,  and  the  piece,  though  in  prose,  met  with 
more  success  than  I  could  have  imagined. 

I  prepared  for  the  carnival  a  comedy  in  prose,  the 
subject  of  which  did  not  appear  to  me  adapted  for  verse. 
I  allude  to  the  "  Vecchio  Bizzarro"  :  this  word  bkzarro 
sometimes  in  Italian  has  the  signification  of  the  French 
word  bizarre,  and  means  capricious,  fantastical,  and 
even  extravagant  ;  but  it  is  much  more  frequently  used 
to  express  what  is  gay,  amusing,  and  brilliant  ;  and 
the  best  translation  for  my  "  Vecchio  Bizzarro,"  is  "The 
Amiable  Old  Man."  I  recollected  the  "  Cortesan  Vene- 
ziano,"  given  by  me  fifteen  years  before  to  the  theatre 
of  St.  Samuel,  and  represented  by  Golinetti  with  so 
much  applause;   and  I  was  desirous  of  composing  a 


308  MEMOIRS   OF 

piece  in  the  same  style  for  Rubini,  who  acted  Panta- 
loon in  the  theatre  of  St.  Luke.  But  Golinetti  was 
a  young  man,  and  Rubini  fifty  at  the  least  ;  and  as  I 
wished  to  bring  him  forward  in  this  piece  without  a 
mask,  it  was  necessary  to  adapt  the  character  to  his 
age.  Those  men  who  have  been  amiable  in  their  youth 
are  proportionably  so  in  their  old  age  ;  and  of  this  Ru- 
bini himself  was  a  proof,  for  he  was  as  agreeable  on 
the  stage  as  delightful  in  company. 

I  expected  that  this  play  would  at  least  be  equally 
successful  with  "The  Cortesan  "  ;  but  in  this  expec- 
tation I  was  sadly  deceived.  Rubini,  who  had  never 
appeared  without  a  mask,  was  so  constrained  and  em- 
barrassed in  his  acting,  that  he  displayed  neither  grace 
nor  art  nor  common-sense.  The  piece  fell  in  the  most 
cruel  and  humiliating  manner  for  both  himself  and 
me  :  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  it  was 
allowed  to  go  on  to  the  conclusion,  and  when  the  cur- 
tain was  lowered,  nothing  but  hisses  were  to  be  heard. 
I  escaped  with  all  possible  expedition  from  the  theatre, 
to  avoid  disagreeable  compliments,  and  repaired  to  the 
Ridotto.  I  mixed,  concealed  beneath  my  mask,  in  the 
crowd  which  assembles  there  on  leaving  the  theatres, 
and  I  had  sufficient  time  and  opportunity  to  hear  the 
eulogies  with  which  both  myself  and  my  piece  were 
honored.  I  went  from  one  gaming-table  to  another, 
and  I  found  myself  the  universal  subject  of  conversa- 
tion. "Goldoni  is  done,"  said  some;  "  Goldoni  has 
emptied  his  bag,"  said  others.  I  recognized  a  nasal 
voice  which  proceeded  from  a  mask,  and  declared  aloud 
that  "the  portfolio  was  exhausted."  He  was  asked 
what  portfolio  he  alluded  to.  "The  manuscript,"  said 
he,  "from  which  Goldoni  has  drawn  everything  that  he 
has  yet  produced."     Notwithstanding  the  desire  which 


CARLO  GOLDOXL  309 

every  one  seemed  to  have  to  laugh  at  my  expense,  this 
declaration  of  the  nasal  mask  turned  the  current  of  ridi- 
cule completely  against  himself.  I  sought  for  criticism, 
but  I  could  hear  only  the  effusions  of  ignorance  and 
animosity. 

On  returning  home,  I  passed  the  night  in  meditating 
on  the  means  of  being  revenged  on  my  ill-natured  critics. 
I  was  at  length  successful,  and  at  break  of  day  I  began 
a  comedy  of  five  acts,  and  in  verse,  entitled  "  II  Festino" 
(The  Citizen's  Ball).  I  sent  it,  act  by  act,  to  the  copy- 
ist. The  comedians  got  off  their  parts  in  proportion  as 
the  work  proceeded:  on  the  fourteenth  day  the  play  was 
advertised,  and  on  the  fifteenth  it  was  acted.  It  was 
a  complete  exemplification  of  the  axiom  "Facit  indig- 
natio  versus."  This  piece  was  still  founded  on  the 
eieisbeo  system.  A  husband  forces  his  wTife  to  give  a 
ball  to  her  eieisbeo.  I  contrived  to  have  in  a  saloon 
adjoining  the  ball-room  an  assembly  of  fatigued  dancers. 
I  turned  the  conversation  to  the  "  Vecchio  Bizzarro," — 
1  repeated  all  the  ridiculous  things  which  I  heard  at  the 
Ridotto;  I  kept  up  a  dispute  for  and  against  the  piece 
and  the  author,  and  my  defence  met  with  the  approba- 
tion and  applause  of  the  public. 

In  this  manner  I  gave  a  proof  that  my  "  bag  was  not 
empty,"  and  that  my  u  portfolio  was  not  exhausted." 
Listen  to  me,  my  fellow-laborers  ;  we  have  no  other 
means  of  being  revenged  on  the  public,  but  by  com- 
pelling them  to  applaud  us. 

VIII. 

Amidst  my  several  daily  occupations,  I  never  lost 
sight  of  the  impression  of  my  works.  In  my  Florence 
edition  I  had  published  the  pieces  composed  by  me  for 


310  MEMOIRS    OF 

the  theatres  of  St.  Samuel  and  St.  Angelo  ;  and  I  be- 
gan now  to  send  to  the  press  the  productions  of  the  two 
first  years  of  my  new  engagement  with  that  of  St.  Luke. 
This  edition  in  octavo,  under  the  title  of  "New  Theatre 
of  M.  Goldoiii."  was  undertaken  by  Pitteri,  a  bookseller 
of  Venice.  I  supplied  him  with  sufficient  materials  foi 
six  months,  and  then  went  to  join  my  comedians,  who 
were  passing  the  spring  at  Bologna. 

On  arriving  at  the  bridge  of  Lago-Scuro,  a  league 
from  Ferrara,  where  certain  duties  are  demanded,  I 
forgot  to  submit  my  truuk  to  an  examination,  and  I  was 
taken  into  custody  on  leaving  the  village.  I  had  a 
small  store  of  chocolate,  coffee,  and  tapers.  These 
were  contraband  commodities,  and  liable  to  confisca- 
tion. This  subjected  me  to  a  considerable  fine  ;  and  in 
the  dominions  of  the  church  the  revenue -officers  are  by 
no  means  lenient.  The  custom-house  officer,  who  had 
peace-officers  along  with  him,  on  searching  my  trunk, 
found  several  volumes  of  my  comedies,  which  he  ex- 
tolled as  highly  delightful.  He  acted  himself  in  private 
parties.  On  my  naming  myself,  he  was  surprised,  en- 
chanted, and  kindly  disposed  towards  me  ;  and  he  gave 
me  reason  to  entertain  the  most  favorable  hopes.  Had 
he  been  alone,  he  would  have  set  me  instantly  at  lib- 
erty ;  but  as  it  was,  the  guards  would  not  have  consented 
to  lose  their  dues.  The  officer  ordered  my  trunk  to  be 
packed  up  again,  and  took  me  with  him  to  the  custom- 
house. The  director  of  the  customs  was  not  there  : 
my  protector  went  himself  to  Ferrara  in  quest  of  him  ; 
and  he  returned  in  three  hours'  time  with  an  order  for 
my  liberation,  on  paying  a  small  sum  of  duty  for  my 
provisions.  I  wished  to  recompense  the  officer  for  the 
service  he  had  rendered  me  ;  but  he  refused  two  sequins 
which  I  requested  him  to  accept,  and  even  my  choco- 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  311 

late,  which  I  offered  to  share  with  him.  All  I  could 
do,  therefore,  was  to  thank  and  admire  him:  I  wrote 
his  name  down  in  my  memorandum-hook  ;  I  promised 
him  a  copy  of  my  new  edition,  an  offer  which  he  ac- 
cepted with  gratitude,  and  I  entered  my  chaise,  resumed 
my  journey,  and  arrived  in  the  evening  at  Bologna. 

In  this  city,  the  mother  of  science  and  the  Athens 
of  Italy,  complaints  had  been  made  some  years  "before 
of  my  reformation,  as  having  a  tendency  to  suppress  the 
four  masks  of  the  Italian  comedy.  This  sort  of  comedy 
was  in  greater  estimation  at  Bologna  than  elsewhere. 
There  were  several  persons  of  merit  in  that  place,  who 
took  a  delight  in  composing  outlines  of  pieces,  which 
were  very  well  represented  there  by  citizens  of  great 
ability,  and  the  delight  of  their  country.  The  amateurs 
of  the  old  comedy,  on  seeing  the  rapid  progress  of  the 
new,  declared  everywhere  that  it  was  unworthy  of  an 
Italian  to  give  a  blow  to  a  species  of  comedy  in  which 
Italy  had  attained  great  distinction,  and  which  no  other 
nation  had  ever  yet  been  able  to  imitate.  But  what 
made  the  greatest  impression  on  the  discontented  was 
the  suppression  of  masks,  which  my  system  appeared 
to  threaten.  It  was  said  that  these  personages  had  for 
two  centuries  been  the  amusement  of  Italy,  and  that  it 
ought  not  to  be  deprived  of  a  species  of  comic  diversion 
which  it  had  created  and  so  well  supported. 

Before  venturing  to  give  any  opinion  on  this  subject, 
I  imagine  the  reader  will  have  no  objection  to  listen  for 
a  few  minutes  to  a  short  account  of  the  origin,  employ- 
ment, and  effects  of  these  four  masks.  Comedy,  which 
in  all  ages  has  been  the  favorite  entertainment  of  pol- 
ished nations,  shared  the  fate  of  the  arts  and  sciences, 
and  was  buried  under  the  ruins  of  the  empire  during 
the  decay  of  letters.     The  germ  of  comedy,  however, 


312  MEMOIRS    OF 

was  never  altogether  extinguished  in  the  fertile  bosom 
of  Italy.  Those  who  first  endeavored  to  bring  about 
its  revival,  not  finding,  in  an  ignorant  age,  writers  of 
sufficient  skill,  had  the  boldness  to  draw  out  plans,  to 
distribute  them  into  acts  and  scenes,  and  to  utter,  ex- 
tempore, the  subjects,  thoughts,  and  witticisms  which 
they  had  concerted  among  themselves.  Those  who 
could  read  (and  neither  the  great  nor  the  rich  were  of 
the  number)  found  that  in  the  comedies  of  Plautus 
and  Terence  there  were  always  duped  fathers,  debauched 
sons,  enamored  girls,  knavish  servants,  and  mercenary 
maids;  and,  running  over  the  different  districts  of  Italy, 
they  took  the  fathers  from  Venice  and  Bologna,  the 
servants  from  Bergamo,  and  the  lovers  and  waiting- 
maids  from  the  dominions  of  Rome  and  Tuscany. 
Written  proofs  are  not  to  be  expected  of  what  took 
place  in  a  time  when  writing  was  not  in  use  ;  but  I 
prove  my  assertion  in  this  way  :  Pantaloon  has  al- 
ways been  a  Venetian,  the  Doctor  a  Bolognese,  and 
Brighella  and  Harlequin,  Bergamasks  ;  and  from  these 
places,  therefore,  the  comic  personages  called  the  four 
masks  of  the  Italian  comedy  were  taken  by  the  players. 
What  I  say  on  this  subject  is  not  altogether  the  crea- 
ture of  my  imagination:  I  possess  a  manuscript  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  in  very  good  preservation,  and  bound 
in  parchment,  containing  a  hundred  and  twenty  sub- 
jects, or  sketches  of  Italian  pieces,  called  comedies  of 
art,  and  of  which  the  basis  of  the  comic  humor  are 
always  Pantaloon,  a  Venetian  merchant  ;  the  Doctor,  a 
Bolognese  juris-consult;  and  Brighella  and  Harlequin, 
Bergamask  valets,  the  first  clever  and  sprightly,  and 
the  other  a  mere  dolt.  Their  antiquity  and  their  long 
existence  indicate  their  origin. 

With  respect  to  their  employment,  Pantaloon  and 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  313 

the  Doctor,  called  by  the  Italians  the  two  old  men, 
represent  the  part  of  fathers,  and  the  other  parts  where 
d<»aks  are  vrorn.  The  first  is  a  merchant,  because 
Venice  in  its  ancient  times  was  the  richest  and  most 
extensively  commercial  country  of  Italy.  He  has  al- 
ways preserved  the  ancient  Venetian  costume;  the 
black  dress  and  the  woollen  bonnet  are  still  worn  in 
Venice  :  and  the  red  under-waistcoat  and  breeches, 
cut  out  like  drawers,  with  red  stockings  and  slippers, 
are  a  most  exact  representation  of  the  equipment  of 
the  first  inhabitants  of  the  Adriatic  marshes.  The 
heard,  which  was  considered  as  an  ornament  in  those 
remote  ages,  has  been  caricatured,  and  rendered  ridic- 
ulous in  subsequent  periods**. 

The  second  old  man.  called  the  Doctor,  was  taken 
from  among  the  lawyers,  for  the  sake  of  opposing  a 
learned  man  to  a  merchant  ;  and  Bologna  was  selected, 
because  in  that  city  there  existed  a  university,  which, 
notwithstanding  the  ignorance  of  the  times,  still  pre- 
served the  offices  and  emoluments  of  the  professors. 
In  the  dress  of  the  Doctor.  Ave  observe  the  ancient  cos- 
tume of  the  university  and  bar  of  Bologna,  which  is 
nearly  the  same  at  tins  day  :  and  the  idea  of  the  sin- 
gular mask  which  covers  his  face  and  nose  was  taken 
from  a  wine  stain  which  disfigured  the  countenance  of 
a  juris-consult  in  those  times.  This  is  a  tradition  still 
existing  among  the  amateurs  of  the  comedy  uî  art. 

Brighella  and  Harlequin,  called  in  Italy  the  two 
Zani,  were  taken  from  Bergamo  :  because,  the  former 
being  a  very  sharp  fellow,  and  the  other  a  stupid 
clown,  these  two  extremes  are  only  to  he  found  among 
the  lower  orders  of  that  part  of  the  country.  Bri- 
ghella represents  an  intriguing,  deceitful,  and  knavish 
valet.     His  dress   is  a  species  of  livery  ;  his  swarthy 


314  MEMOIRS    OF 

mask  is  a  caricature  of  the  color  of  the  inhabitants  of 
those  high  mountains,  tanned  by  the  heat  of  the  sun. 
Some  (•« «medians,  in  this  character,  have  taken  the 
name  of  Fenocchio,  Fiqueto,  and  Scapin;  but  they 
have  always  represented  the  same  valet  and  the  same 
Bergamask.  The  harlequins  have  also  assumed  other 
names  ;  they  have  been  sometimes  Traeagnins,  Truf- 
faldins,  Gradelins,  and  Mezetins  ;  but  they  have  always 
been  stupid  Bergamasks.  Their  dress  is  an  exact  rep- 
resentation of  that  of  a  poor  devil  who  has  picked  up 
pieces  of  stuffs  of  different  colors  to  patch  his  dress  ; 
his  hat  corresponds  with  his  mendicity,  and  the  hare's 
tail  with  which  it  is  ornamented  is  still  common  in  the 
dress  of  the  peasantry  of  Bergamo. 

I  have  thus,  I  trust,  sufficiently  demonstrated  the 
origin  and  employment  of  the  four  masks  of  the  Ital- 
ian comedy  ;  it  now  remains  for  me  to  mention  the 
effects  resulting  from  them.  The  mask  must  always 
be  very  prejudicial  to  the  action  of  the  performer  either 
in  joy  or  sorrow;  whether  he  be  in  love,  cross,  or 
good-humored,  the  same  features  are  always  exhibited  ; 
and  however  he  may  gesticulate  and  vary  the  tone,  he 
can  never  convey  by  the  countenance,  which  is  the  in- 
terpreter of  the  heart,  the  different  passions  with 
which  he  is  inwardly  agitated.  The  masks  of  the 
Greeks  and  Romans  were  a  sort  of  speaking-trumpets, 
invented  for  the  purpose  of  conveying  the  sound  through 
the  vast  extent  of  their  amphitheatres.  Passion  and 
sentiment  were  not,  in  those  times,  carried  to  the 
pitch  of  delicacy  now  actually  necessary.  The  actor 
must,  in  our  days,  possess  a  soul  ;  and  the  soul  under 
a  mask  is  like  a  fire  under  ashes.  These  were  the 
reasons  which  induced  me  to  endeavor  the  reform  of 
the  Italian  theatre,  and  to  supply  the  place  of  farces 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  315 

with  comedies.  But  the  complaints  became  louder  and 
louder;  I  was  disgusted  with  the  two  parties,  and  I 
endeavored  to  satisfy  both;  I  undertook  to  produce 
a  few  pieces  merely  sketched,  without  ceasing  to  give 
comedies  of  character.  I  employed  the  masks  in  the 
former;  and  I  displayed  a  more  noble  and  interesting 
comic  humor  in  the  others  ;  each  participated  in  the 
species  of  pleasure  with  which  they  were  most  de- 
lighted ;  with  time  and  patience  I  brought  about  a 
reconciliation  between  them;  and  I  had  the  satisfac- 
tion, at  length,  to  see  myself  authorized  in  following 
my  own  taste,  which  became,  in  a  few  years,  the  most 
general  and  prevailing  in  Italy.  I  willingly  pardoned 
the  partisans  of  the  comedians  with  masks  the  injuries 
they  laid  to  my  charge;  for  they  were  very  able  ama- 
teurs, who  had  the  merit  of  giving  themselves  an  in- 
terest to  sketched  comedies. 

I  was  most  disgusted  with  those  persons  of  quality 
who  called  for  vengeance  against  me  for  having  rid* 
iculed  the  cicisbeo  system,  and  ventured  to  attack  the 
nobility.  I  was  not  desirous  of  excusing  myself  in 
this  respect,  and  still  less  of  correcting  myself;  but  I 
entertained  too  high  a  value  for  the  suffrage  of  the  Bo- 
lognese,  not  to  endeavor  to  convert  the  discontented, 
and  to  deserve  their  esteem.  I  invented  a  comedy,  the 
subject  of  which  was  worthy  of  a  country  where  the 
arts,  sciences,  and  literature  were  more  generally  cul- 
tivated than  elsewhere.  I  selected  for  the  subject  of 
my  piece  "  Terence  the  African";  as  I  had,  several  years 
before,  selected  the  French  Terence.  This  comedy  is  one 
of  my  favorites  ;  it  cost  me  infinité  labor,  and  procured 
me  a  great  deal  of  satisfaction  ;  it  merited  the  general 
eulogium  of  the  Bolognese  :  could  I  then  possibly  re- 
frain to  give  it  the  preference  ?     Content  with  the  sue- 


316  MEMOIRS    OF 

cess  of  my  "  Terence,"  I  returned  to  Venice,  and  passed 
the  rest  of  the  summer  at  Bagnoli,  a  superb  estate  in 
tlif  district  of  Padua,  belonging  to  Count  Widiman, 
a  noble  Venetian,  and  a  feudatory  in  the  imperial 
dominions.  This  rich  and  generous  nobleman  was 
always  accompanied  by  a  numerous  and  select  society. 
They  represented  plays,  and  he  himself  bore  a  part  in 
them  ;  and,  notwithstanding  his  natural  seriousness, 
there  was  not  a  harlequin  of  them  all  more  gay  and 
nimble  than  himself.  He  had  studied  Sacchi,  and 
imitated  him  to  admiration.  I  supplied  little  sketches  ; 
but  I  durst  not  venture  to  play  in  them.  Some  ladies 
of  the  party  obliged  me  to  take  the  character  of  a 
lover;  I  satisfied  them,  and  thus  enabled  them  to 
laugh,  and  enjoy  themselves  at  my  expense.  I  was 
piqued  ;  and  next  day  I  sketched  a  small  piece,  entitled 
"  The  Fair"  ;  and  in  place  of  one  character  for  myself, 
I  took  four,  —  a  stage-doctor,  a  sharper,  a  stage-man- 
ager, and  a  ballad-monger.  In  the  first  of  these  char- 
acters I  mimicked  the  jugglers  of  the  square  of  .St. 
Mark  ;  and  I  uttered  under  the  mask  of  the  fourth 
several  allegorical  and  critical  couplets,  concluding 
with  the  complaint  of  the  author  against  them  for 
laughing  at  me.  This  pleasantry  was  approved  of; 
and  thus  I  took  my  revenge  in  my  own  way. 

I  quitted  the  company  of  Bagnoli  about  the  end  of 
the  month  of  September,  and  returned  borne,  to  be 
present  at  the  opening  of  my  theatre.  The  first, 
novelty  we  gave  was  4"  Il  Cavalière  Giocondo"  (The 
Merry  Gentleman),  a  piece  which  I  should  perhaps  have 
forgotten,  if  I  had  not  seen  it  printed  against  my  will 
in  the  edition  of  Turin  :  it  was  not  damned  outright  at 
its  first  representation  :  it  was  in  verse,  and  displeased 
nobody,  but  1  myself  was  disgusted  with  it.     After  this 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  317 

piece  in  verse,  I  gave  one  which,  notwithstanding  the 
disadvantage  of  prose,  pleased  very  much,  and  was 
eminently  successful. 

I  gave  three  other  pieces  on  the  same  subject; 
and  the  following  are  their  titles  :  "Le  Smanie  della 
Villégiatura"  (The  Country  Mania);  u  Le  Avven- 
ture  della  Canipagna"  (The  Adventures  of  the  Coun- 
try); and  "  II  Kitorno  della  Campagna"  (The  Return 
from  the  Country).  In  Italy,  and  at  Venice  in  a  par- 
ticular manner,  this  mania,  these  adventures  and 
regrets,  furnish  an  abundance  of  ridiculous  matter 
worthy  of  comedy.  It  is  hardly  possible  in  France  to 
have  any  idea  of  the  extent  of  this  fanaticism,  which 
converts  the  country  into  a  display  of  luxury  rather 
than  a  scene  of  rural  enjoyment.  Since  I  have  been 
at  Paris,  however,  I  have  seen  people  win»,  without 
having  an  inch  of  ground  to  cultivate,  kept  up  country- 
houses  at  a  great  expense,  in  which  they  ruined  them- 
selves as  well  as  the  Italians  ;  and  my  piece,  in  giving 
an  idea  of  the  folly  of  my  countrymen,  may  admit  of 
this  incidental  deduction,  that  in  every  country  where 
people  of  moderate  fortunes  attempt  to  vie  with  the 
opulent,  they  will  infallibly  be  ruined. 


IX. 

I  was  called  to  Parma  in  the  month  of  March,  1756, 
by  order  of  his  royal  highness  the  Infante  Dou  Philip. 
This  prince,  who  maintained  a  very  numerous  and 
able  French  company,  was  also  desirous  of  having  an 
Italian  comic  opera.  He  did  me  the  honor  to  employ 
me  in  the  composition  of  three  pieces  for  the  opening 
of  this  new  entertainment.  On  arriving  at  Parma  I 
was  conducted  to  Colorno,  where  the  court  then  was, 


318  MEMOIRS    OF 

and  introduced  to  M.  du  Tillot,  intendant-gencral  of 
the  house  of  his  royal  highness,  who  was  afterwards  a 
minister  of  state,  and  advanced  to  the  title  of  Marquis 
de  Felino.  This  worthy  Frenchman,  full  of  intellect, 
talents,  and  probity,  received  me  with  kindness  ;  gave 
me  a  very  pretty  apart  ment  ;  destined  me  a  seat  at 
his  table,  and  directed  me  to  M.  Jacobi,  then  intrusted 
with  the  management  of  the  entertainments,  for  my 
instructions.  The  same  day  I  went  to  the  court- 
comedy,  and  saw,  for  the  first  time,  French  actors.  I 
was  enchanted  with  their  acting,  and  astonished  at  the 
silence  which  prevailed  in  the  theatre.  I  do  not  recol- 
lect the  name  of  the  comedy  which  was  that  day  repre- 
sented ;  but  on  seeing,  in  one  of  the  scenes,  a  lover 
warmly  embrace  his  mistress,  this  action,  which  is 
natural  and  allowable  tu  the  French,  but  prohibited  to 
the  Italians,  pleased  me  so  much  that  I  called  out, 
"  Bravo  I  "  as  loud  as  I  could.  My  indiscreet  and  un- 
known voice  shocked  the  silent  assembly.  The  prince 
wished  to  know  whence  it  came  :  I  was  named,  and 
the  surprise  of  an  Italian  author  was  considered  par- 
donable. This  sally  was  the  means  of  my  general 
introduction  to  the  public.  I  went  behind  the  scenes 
after  the  conclusion  of  the  performance,  where  I  was 
soon  surrounded  with  people,  and  I  thus  formed  a 
number  of  acquaintances,  who  made  my  residence  in 
Parma  very  agreeable  to  me,  and  whom  I  regretted 
at  parting.  I  had  the  honor,  some  days  afterwards,  of 
kissing  the  hands  of  the  infante,  infanta,  and  the  prin- 
cess-royal, their  daughter.  I  enjoyed  for  some  time 
the  pleasures  of  Colorno,  and  then  retired  to  Parma,  to 
labor  without  interruption. 

I  was  liberally  recompensed  for  my  time  and  my 
trouble  ;  and  I  left  Parma  with  letters-patent  of  poet, 


CARLO  GOLDONI.  319 

and  actual  servant  of  his  royal  highness,  and  with  an 
annual  pension  which  the  reigning  duke  had  the  good- 
ness to  continue  to  me. 


X. 

Mr  journey  to  Parma,  and  the  pension  and  diploma 
conferred  on  me,  excited  the  envy  and  rage  of  my  ad- 
versaries. They  had  reported  at  Venice,  during  my 
absence,  that  I  was  dead  :  and  there  was  a  monk  who 
had  even  the  temerity  to  say  he  had  been  at  my  fu- 
neral. On  arriving  home  safe  and  sound,  the  evil- 
disposed  began  to  display  their  irritation  at  my  good 
fortune.  It  was  not  the  authors,  my  antagonists,  who 
tormented  me,  but  the  partisans  of  the  different  thea- 
tres of  Venice. 

I  was  defended  by  literary  men,  who  entertained  a 
favorable  opinion  of  me;  and  this  gave  rise  to  a  war- 
fare in  which  I  was  very  innocently  the  victim  of  the 
irritation  which  had  been  excited.  Every  day  wit- 
nessed some  new  composition  for  or  against  me  :  but  I 
had  this  advantage,  that  those  who  interested  them- 
selves for  me,  from  their  manners,  their  talents,  and 
their  reputation,  were  among  the  most  prudent  and 
distinguished  men  in  Italy.  One  of  the  articles  for 
which  I  was  most  keenly  attacked,  was  a  violation  of 
the  purity  of  the  language.  I  was  a  Venetian,  and  I 
had  had  the  disadvantage  of  sucking  in  with  my  moth- 
er's milk  the  use  of  a  very  agreeable  and  seductive 
patois,  which,  however,  was  not  Tuscan.  I  learned 
by  principle,  and  cultivated  by  reading,  the  language 
of  the  good  Italian  authors  ;  but  first  impressions  will 
return  at  times,  notwithstanding  every  attention  used 
in  avoiding  them.     I  had  undertaken  a  journey  into 


320  MEMOIRS    OF 

Tuscany,  where  I  remained  for  four  years,  with  the 
view  of  becoming  familiar  with  the  language;  and  I 

printed  the  first  edition  of  my  works  at  Florence,  under 
the  eyes  and  the  criticism  of  the  learned  of  that  place, 
that  I  might  purify  them  from  errors  of  language. 
All  my  precautions  were  insufficient  to  satisfy  the 
rigorists  :  I  always  failed  in  one  thing  or  other  ;  and  I 
was  perpetually  reproached  with  the  original  sin  of 
Venetianism. 

Amidst  all  this  tedious  trifling  I  recollected,  one  day, 
that  Tasso  had  heen  worried  his  whole  lifetime  by  the 
academicians  della  Crusca,  who  maintained  that  his 
"Jerusalem  Delivered  "  had  not  passed  through  the 
sieve,  which  is  the  emblem  of  their  society.  I  was 
then  in  my  closet,  and  I  turned  my  eyes  towards  the 
twelve  quarto  volumes  of  the  works  of  that  author,  and 
exclaimed,  "  0  heavens  !  must  no  one  write  in  the 
Italian  language,  who  has  not  been  born  in  Tuscany?" 
I  turned  up  mechanically  the  five  volumes  of  the  dic- 
tionary de  la  Crusca,  where  I  found  more  than  six 
hundred  words,  and  a  number  of  expressions,  approved 
of  by  the  academy,  and  rejected  by  the  world  :  I  ran 
over  several  ancient  authors  considered  as  classical, 
which  it  would  be  impossible  to  imitate  in  the  present 
day  without  censure  ;  and  I  came  to  this  conclusion, 
that  we  must  write  in  good  Italian,  but  write  at  the 
same  time  so  as  to  be  understood  in  every  corner  of 
Italy.  Tasso  was  therefore  wrong  in  reforming  his 
poem  to  please  the  academicians  de  la  Crusca  :  his 
"Jerusalem  Delivered  "  is  read  by  everybody,  while 
nobody  thinks  of  reading  his  "  Jerusalem  Conquered." 

In  the  ensuing  carnival,   I  received   a  letter  from 

Rome.     Count ,  having   engaged    to    uphold   the 

Tordinona  theatre  in  that  capital,  fixed  his  eyes  on  me. 


CARLO  GOLDONI.  321 

He  demanded  from  me  pieces  for  his  comedians,  and 
invited  me  to  repair  to  Rome  to  direct  them. 

I  had  never  yet  visited  Rome  ;  and  the  conditions 
proposed  to  me  were  highly  honorable.  Could  I  re- 
fuse so  favorable  and  advantageous  an  opportunity? 

I  could  not  engage  myself,  however,  without  an 
avowal  to  the  patrician  who  confided  to  me  the  inter- 
ests of  his  theatre  at  Venice.  I  imparted  the  project 
to  him,  and  assured  him  that  I  would  not  fail  to  sup- 
ply his  comedians  with  novelties.  He  readily  gave  his 
consent,  and  even  displayed  great  satisfaction  on  the 
occasion. 

I  accepted  the  invitation  accordingly,  and  demanded 
information  respecting  the  construction  of  the  Tordi- 
nona  theatre,  and  the  actors  who  were  to  perforin  in  it. 

The  person  who  corresponded  with  me  gave  me  no 
information  on  these  two  points,  which  appeared  to  me 
of  some  importance  :  he  supposed  that,  on  arriving  at 
Rome,  I  could  blow  comedies  as  glasses  are  blown  in  a 
manufactory;  and  he  merely  informed  me  that  he  had 
taken  care  to  have  handsome  apartments  for  me  in  the 
best  quarter  of  Rome,  in  the  house  of  a  very  polite  and 
very  worthy  abbé,  who,  from  his  knowledge,  would  be 
able  to  render  my  residence  in  Rome  highly  agreeable 
and  interesting. 

I  accepted  the  proposition  ;  and  being  precluded 
from  laboring  for  the  Roman  actors,  of  whom  I  knew 
nothing,  I  employed  my  time  for  the  comedians  of 
Venice. 


MEMOIRS   OF 


XL 


I  knew  that  for  some  years  my  comedies  had  been 
represented  at  the  Capranica  theatre,  and  that  they 
were  applauded  there  as  well  as  at  Venice.  I  was, 
therefore,  about  to  combat  against  myself,  and  I  was 
desirous  of  acting  in  such  a  manner  that  my  presence, 
and  the  care  bestowed  by  me,  should  incline  the  public 
in  favor  of  the  new  theatre,  which  was  to  open  under 
my  direction.  I  had  never  hazarded  my  works  with- 
out knowing  the  actors  by  whom  they  were  to  be  rep- 
resented ;  and  I  wrote  again  for  instruction  respecting 
the  character  and  the  aptitute  of  the  comedians  who 
were  destined  for  me. 

I  was  informed,  in  answer,  that  Count was  him- 
self unacquainted  with  the  actors,  the  greatest  part  of 
whom  were  Neapolitans,  who  would  not  make  their 
appearance  in  Rome  till  the  latter  end  of  the  month  of 
November.  In  the  same  letter  I  learned  that  the  count 
did  not  demand  new  pieces  from  me,  that  I  might 
bring  with  me  those  which  I  had  lately  composed  for 
Venice  ;  that  I  should  see  and  examine  the  company 
myself,  and  that  in  the  space  of  a  month  the  theatre 
might  be  opened. 

I  embarked  in  the  beginning  of  October  with  my 
wife  :  I  did  not  wish  to  go  alone,  and  I  could  not  have 
company  more  to  my  liking.  We  first  went  to  Bo- 
logna, whence  we  may  go  to  Rome  either  by  the  way 
of  Florence  or  Loretto  ;  I  preferred  the  latter  road,  as 
I  was  anxious  to  satisfy  at  once  both  my  devotion  and 
my  curiosity.  The  small  town  of  Loretto  has  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  perpetual  fair  of  chaplets,  medals,  and 
images.     It    seems    that  all   those   who  traverse  this 


CARLO    GOLDONI.  323 

country  are  bound  to  purchase  these  holy  commodities 
to  regale  strangers  with  them.  In  purchasing  my  store 
of  them,  like  other  people,  I  amused  myself  with  in- 
terrogating my  merchant  on  the  profit  of  his  trade. 
"  Alas,  sir,"  said  he  to  me,  "there  was  a  time  when, 
through  the  grace  of  the  good  Virgin  Mary,  those  in 
our  situation  made  rapid  fortunes  ;  but  for  several  years 
the  Mother  of  God,  irritated  at  our  sins,  has  abandoned 
us  ;  the  sale  diminishes  every  day  ;  all  that  we  can  do 
is  to  keep  soul  and  body  together  :  and  if  it  were  not 
for  the  Venetians,  we  should  be  obliged  to  shut  up 
shop."  When  all  my  purchases  were  well  assorted  and 
tied  up,  my  merchant  presented  me  what  he  called  a 
conscientious  bill.  I  paid  him  without  much  hag- 
gling :  the  good  man  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  with 
the  money  which  I  gave  him,  and  I  went  away  very 
much  edified.  I  showed  my  purchase  to  the  Abbé 
Toni  of  Loretto,  from  whom  I  learned  that  the  mer- 
chant, having  perceived  I  was  a  Venetian,  had  made 
me  pay  for  my  goods  a  third  more  than  the  ordinary 
price.  It  was  late,  and  I  was  in  haste  to  continue  my 
journey,  so  that  I  had  no  time  to  go  and  tell  my  re- 
ligious friend  that  he  was  a  knave. 

I  continued  my  route  for  Rome,  and  on  my  arrival 

in  that  capital  I  wrote  to  Count .     He  sent  his 

valet- de -chambre  next  day  to  me,  and  invited  me  to 
dine  with  him.  A  coach  was  in  waiting  at  my  door  to 
take  me,  and  I  dressed,  set  out,  and  found  all  the  come- 
dians assembled  at  his  house.  After  the  usual  ceremo- 
nies I  applied  to  the  person  nearest  me  to  learn  from 
him  his  employment.  "  Sir,"  said  he  with  an  air  of 
importance,  "  I  play  Punch."  "  What,  sir,"  said  I  to 
him,  u  Punch  !  in  the  Neapolitan  language  ?"  "  Yes, 
sir,"  he  replied,  "  in  the  same  way  as  your  Harlequins 


324  MEMOIRS    OF 

speak  in  Bergamask  or  Venetian.  I  have  been,  I  may 
say  without  boasting,  the  delight  of  Rome  for  upwards 
of  teu  years.  M.  Francisco  here  plays  la  Popa  (the 
waiting-maid),  and  M.  Petrillo  acts  the  mothers  and 
sober-minded  women,  and  for  teu  years  we  have  been 
the  support  of  the  theatre  of  Tordinona." 

My  couutenance  fell  immediately,  and  I  looked  at 
the  count,  who  was  as  embarrassed  as  myself.  "  I 
perceive,  now  that  it  is  too  late,  the  inconveniences  of 
our  situation,"  said  he  to  me  ;  "  but  we  must  endeavor 
to  remedy  matters  as  far  as  possible."  I  gave  the 
Neapolitan  and  Roman  actors  to  understand  that,  for 
some  time,  masks  had  not  been  employed  in  my  pieces. 
''Never  mind;  do  not  let  that  alarm  you,"  said  the 
celebrated  Punch;  "  we  are  not  puppets;  we  neither 
want  judgment  nor  memory  ;  let  us  see  what  you  want 
with  us." 

I  drew  from  my  pocket  the  comedy  which  I  had 
destined  for  them,  and  offered  to  read  it.  Everybody 
prepared  to  hear  me  ;  and  I  read  "  La  Yedova  Spiri- 
tosa,"  The  comedy  gave  infinite  pleasure  to  the 
count  ;  and  the  comedians,  not  daring  perhaps  to  say 
what  they  thought  of  it,  acquiesced  in  the  determina- 
tion of  the  person  who  had  the  power  of  selecting  the 
pieces.  The  parts  were  instantly  ordered  to  be  copied 
out,  and  the  comedians  withdrew.  When  seated  at 
table  I  did  not  conceal  from  the  count  my  fear  that  we 
had  both  of  us  committed  a  piece  of  imprudence,  he  in 
sending  for  me  to  Rome  and  myself  in  coming. 

Whilst  the  comedians  were  learning  their  parts  I 
thought  only  of  seeing  and  examining  everything  in 
Rome,  and  visiting  those  to  whom  I  had  letters  of 
recommendation.  1  had  a  letter  from  the  minister  cf 
Parma  for  Cardinal  Porto-Carrero,  the   Spanish  am- 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  325 

bassador,  and  another  from  Prince  Rezzonico,  the 
nephew  of  the  reigning  pope,  for  Cardinal  Charles 
Rezzonico,   his  brother. 

I  began  by  presenting  this  last  letter  to  the  Cardinal 
Padrone,  who  received  me  with  kindness  and  the  same 
familiarity  with  which  I  was  honored  by  his  illustrious 
relations  of  Venice.  He  was  not  long  in  procuring  me 
an  opportunity  to  visit  his  holiness,  and  I  was  pre- 
sented a  few  days  afterwards  alone  and  in  a  private 
closet  ;  a  favor  which  is  very  unusual.  This  Venetian 
pontiff,  whom  I  had  the  honor  of  knowing  in  his  epis- 
copal city  of  Padua,  and  whose  exaltation  had  been 
celebrated  by  my  Muse,  gave  me  the  most  gracious 
reception.  He  conversed  with  me  for  three  quarters 
of  an  hour,  always  speaking  to  me  of  his  nephews  and 
nieces,  and  charmed  with  the  news  which  I  communi- 
cated to  him. 

His  holiness  touched  a  bell  on  his  table,  which  was 
the  signal  for  my  departure.  I  took  my  leave  with 
many  bows  and  expressions  of  thanks  ;  but  the  holy 
father  did  not  seem  satisfied  :  he  moved  his  feet  and 
hands,  coughed,  and  looked  at  me,  yet  said  nothing. 
What  a  blunder  I  had  committed!  Enchanted  and 
overpowered  with  the  honor  conferred  on  me,  I  had 
forgotten  to  kiss  the  foot  of  the  successor  of  St. 
Peter.  I  recovered  at  length  from  my  absence,  and 
prostrated  myself.  Clement  XIII.  loaded  me  with 
benedictions,  and  I  departed  mortified  at  my  stupidity 
and  edified  by  his  indulgence.  I  continued  my  visits 
for  several  days.  Cardinal  Porto  Carrero  made  me 
an  offer  of  his  table  and  the  use  of  his  coach.  The 
same  offer  was  made  me  by  the  chevalier  Carrero,  the 
Venetian  ambassador,  and  I  availed  myself  of  the 
offers,  and  particularly  of  the  carriages,  which  are  as 


326  MEMOIRS    OF 

necessary  at  Rome  as  at  Paris.  I  saw  every  day  car- 
dinals, princes,  princesses,  and  foreign  ministers;  and 
immediately  after  my  reception  I  was  visited,  next 
day,  by  valets  who  came  to  compliment  me  on  my  ar- 
rival, and  to  whom  it  was  necessary  to  give  from  three 
to  ten  paoli  according  to  the  rank  of  their  masters, 
and  to  those  of  the  Pope  three  sequins.  This  is  the 
custom  of  the  country  ;  the  sum  is  fixed,  and  there  is 
no  abatement. 

In  the  course  of  my  visits  I  did  not  fail  to  examine 
the  precious  monuments  of  that  city,  formerly  the 
capital  of  the  world,  and  now  the  principal  seat  of  the 
Catholic  religion.  I  shall  not  dwell  on  the  chef -d'oeu- 
vres known  to  everybody,  but  shall  confine  myself  to 
an  expression  of  the  effect  produced  on  my  mind  and 
senses  by  the  view  of  St.  Peter's  of  Koine. 

I  was  fifty-two  when  I  first  saw  this  temple  ;  from 
the  age  of  reason  to  that  time,  I  had  heard  it  spoken 
of  with  enthusiasm;  I  had  read  the  historians  and 
travellers  by  whom  it  is  described  in  a  suitable  manner. 
I  imagined,  therefore,  that  on  seeing  it  myself  my  sur- 
prise would  be  diminished  by  anticipation;  but  it  so 
happeued  that  all  the  descriptions  fell  below  the  actual 
impression  it  made  on  me;  and  that  everything  which, 
when  at  a  distance,  appeared  to  me  described  with 
exaggeration,  rose  in  grandeur  when  I  actually  viewed 
it.  I  am  no  connoisseur  in  architecture,  and  I  shall 
not  attempt  to  make  a  display  of  terms  of  art  to  ex- 
plain the  cause  of  the  delight  which  I  felt;  but  I  am 
certain  that  it  was  the  effect  of  the  accuracy  of  propor- 
tion displayed  throughout  such  an  immense  extent. 
If  the  objects  of  construction  and  ornament  excite 
our  admiration,  the  sanctuary  of  that  church  is  in  an 
equal  degree  productive  of  devotion.     The  bodies  of 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  327 

St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul  repose  in  the  vaults  of  the 
chief  altar;  and  the  Romans,  who  are  everything 
hut  devout,  never  fail  to  appear  there  frequently  in 
testimony  of  their  veneration  for  the  princes  of  the 
apostles. 

My  landlord,  for  example,  would  not  have  failed, 
for  all  the  gold  in  the  world,  to  attend  prayers  every 
day  in  the  cathedral.  He  was  fond  of  pleasure,  and 
on  returning  home,  as  late  as  midnight,  he  would  rec- 
ollect that  he  had  not  visited  his  patrons.  He  lived 
in  a  quarter  of  the  town  at  a  great  distance  from  St. 
Peter's;  hut  that  did  not  signify:  he  always  went,  and 
after  prayers  at  the  door  returned  home  satisfied. 

I  must  introduce  this  man  to  my  readers,  who  pos- 
sessed  some  singularities,  hut  who  had  an  excellent 
heart  and  was  unequalled  in  sincerity.  He  was  the 
Abbé ,  the  correspondent  of  several  German  bish- 
ops on  datary  business  :  he  furnished  me  with  a  suite 
of  apartments  consisting  of  four  rooms  with  eight 
windows  in  front  looking  into  the  Corso,  the  finest 
street  in  Rome,  where  everybody  assembled  to  see  the 
races  of  Barbary  horses,  and  to  enjoy  the  masks  in 
Shrovetide.  The  Abbé had  a  wife  and  a  charm- 
ing daughter  ;  he  was  not  rich,  but  he  kept  good 
cheer,  and  I  boarded  with  him.  There  was  every  day 
on  his  table  a  dish  made  by  himself,  and  which  he 
never  failed  to  announce  to  his  guests  as  a  dish  for  the 
advocate  Goldoni,  dressed  by  the  hands  of  his  servant 

;  adding,  that  nobody  should  touch  it  without  the 

advocate's  permission.     He  gave  concerts  :    Miss 

sung  delightfully,  and  she  was  seconded  by  voices  and 
instruments  of  the  first  merit,  which  in  Rome  may  be 
found  in  abundance  in  all  classes  and  all  ranks. 

These  parties  of  pleasure  were  always,  according  to 


328  MEMOIRS   OF 

the  account  of  my  dear  abbé,  ordered  for  the  advocate 
Goldoni,  and  I  could  not  vex  him  more  than  by  dining 
out  or  passing  the  evening  in  any  other  house.  One 
day,  when  I  came  home  to  tell  him  that  I  had  engaged 
to  dine  out,  he  wished  himself  at  the  devil  and  scolded 
my  wife.  "Nobody  shall  eat,"'  said  he,  "of  the  dish 
which  I  prepared  for  the  advocate  Goldoni."  He  then 
entered  his  kitchen,  and,  looking  with  a  distressed  air 
at  the  delicious  dish  which  he  had  taken  so  much 
pleasure  in  preparing,  he  was  at  last  seized  with  a  tit 
of  rage  and  threw  the  stewpan  into  the  court.  On 
my  return  home  in  the  evening  the  abbé  was  in  bed 
and  refused  to  see  me.  Everybody  laughed,  but  I  felt 
very  uneasy;  however,  the  servant  at  that  instant 
having  delivered  me  an  invitation  to  go  next  day  to 
the  rehearsal  of  my  piece,  and  that  interesting  me 
considerably  more  than  the  other  circumstance,  I  soon 
forgot  the  abbé,  and  slept  very  tranquilly. 

I  repaired  to  Count 's  to  be  present  at  the  re- 
hearsal of  my  piece.  The  comedians  were  there  :  they 
had  studied  their  parts,  and  got  them  by  heart.  I  was 
flattered  by  their  attention,  and  I  resolved  to  second 
their  zeal  and  give  them  all  the  assistance  in  my 
p<  >wer.  They  began  ;  Donna  Placida  and  Donna  Lui- 
gia  ;  these  female  parts  were  acted  by  two  young 
Romans,  a  journeyman  barber  and  a  journeyman 
carpenter.  Good  Heaven  !  what  extravagant  declama- 
tion !  what  awkward  gestures  !  No  truth,  — no  intel- 
ligence. I  ventured  to  speak  in  general  terms  of  the 
bad  taste  of  their  mode  of  declamation.  Punch,  who 
was  always  the  orator  of  this  company,  replied  very 
briskly,  "  Every  one  has  his  manner,  sir,  and  this 
happens  to  be  ours."  I  formed  my  resolution  in 
silence  :  I  merely  observed  to  them  that  the  piece  ap- 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  ■        329 

peared  to  me  to  be  too  long,  and  this  was  the  only 
point  in  which  we  were  agreed.  I  abridged  it  at  least 
a  good  third,  to  spare  me  the  trouble  of  hearing  it; 
and,  tiresome  as  the  task  was,  I  was  present  at  every 
one  of  the  rehearsals,  even  at  the  last  one  in  the 
theatre. 

All  the  theatres  are  opened  in  Rome  on  the  same 
day,  the  26th  of  December.  I  was  tempted  not  to  go, 
but  the  count  had  destined  me  a  place  in  his  box  and 
I  could  not  decently  refuse  to  be  present.  I  went 
accordingly,  and  found  the  house  fully  lighted  and  the 
curtain  about  to  be  drawn.  There  were,  at  most, 
not  more  than  a  hundred  persons  in  the  boxes  and 
thirty  in  the  pit.  I  had  been  informed  beforehand 
that  the  Tordiuona  theatre  was  the  resort  of  coal- 
heavers  and  sailors,  and  that,  without  Punch,  none  of 
the  lovers  of  farce  would  attend.  Still,  however,  I 
was  inclined  to  believe  that  an  author  sent  for  ex- 
pressly from  Venice  would  excite  cariosity  and  attract 
spectators  from  the  centre  of  the  town  ;  but  my  actors 
were  sufficiently  known  in  Rome.  When  the  curtain 
was  drawn  the  actors  made  their  appearance,  and 
played  in  the  same  manner  as  they  had  rehearsed. 
The  public  became  impatient  aud  asked  for  Punch, 
and  the  piece  went  on  worse  and  worse.  I  could  bear 
it  no  longer  ;  I  began  to  feel  myself  growing  unwell, 
and  I  asked  the  count's  permission  to  withdraw, 
which  he  readily  granted  me,  and  even  made  me  an 
offer  of  his  coach.  I  quitted  the  theatre  of  Tordiuona 
and  went  to  join  my  wife,  who  was  in  that  of 
Aliberti. 

My  wife,  foreseeing  the  failure  of  my  piece  as  well 
as  myself,  had  gone  to  the  opera  with  the  daughter  of 
my  landlord.      On  my  entering  their  box   they  per- 


330        •  MEMOIRS   OF 

ceived,  by  my  countenance,  the  chagrin  which  I  felt, 
without  my  having  spoken  to  them.  "  Console  your- 
self," said  the  young  lady  to  me,  laughing,  "things 
are  not  better  here  :  the  music  does  not  please  at  all,  — 
there  is  not  one  agreeable  air,  recitative,  or  ritornello  ; 
Buranello  has  sadly  forgot  himself  this  time."  She 
was  skilled  in  music  and  capable  of  judging  for  herself; 
and  I  saw  that  everybody  there  was  of  her  opinion. 

The  pit  of  Home  is  dreadful  ;  the  abbés  decide  in  a 
vigorous  and  noisy  manner;  there  are  no  guards  or 
police  ;  and  hisses,  cries,  laughter,  and  invectives  re- 
sound from  all  quarters  of  the  house.  But  it  must  be 
owned  that  he  who  pleases  the  churchmen  may  deem 
himself  fortunate.  I  was  at  the  first  representation  of 
the  "  Ciccio  of  Mayo"  in  the  same  theatre,  and  the  ap- 
plauses were  as  violent  as  the  censures  had  formerly 
been.  A  part  of  the  pit  went  out  at  the  close  of  the 
entertainment,  to  conduct  the  musician  home  in  tri- 
umph, and  the  remainder  of  the  audience  stayed  in 
the  theatre,  calling  out  without  intermission,  u  Viva 
Mayo  !  "  till  every  candle  was  burnt  to  the  socket. 
What  would  have  become  of  me,  had  I  remained  at 
Tordinona  till  the  conclusion  of  my  piece  !      I  trembled 

when  I  thought  of  this.     I  called  on  Count next 

day.  fully  determined  never  to  expose  myself  again  to 
a  similar  danger.  Fortunately  I  had  to  do  with  a  just 
and  reasonable  man,  who  himself  saw  the  impossibility 
of  deriving  any  advantage  from  his  comedians  without 
allowing  them  to  proceed  in  their  own  way.  I  shall 
state,  in  a  few  words,  the  arrangement  to  which  we 
were  obliged  to  have  recourse. 

It  was  agreed  that  the  Neapolitans  should  give  their 
usual  sketches  diversified  with  musical  interludes,  the 
subjects  of  which  I  should  arrange  from  parodied  airs  ; 


CARLO   GOLDONI.  661 

and  this  project  was  in  a  few  flays  carried  into  execu- 
tion. We  found  the  best  scores  of  my  comic  operas  in 
the  music  shops.     Rome  is  a  nursery  of  singers.     We 

procured  two  g 1  and  six  tolerable  ones.     The  first 

interlude  we  gave  was  "  Areifanfano  Re  di  Pazzi,"  the 
music  by  Buranello.  This  little  spectacle  afforded 
great  pleasure,  and  the  theatre  of  Tordinona  succeeded 
in  a  way  that  prevented  the  count  from  being  a  great 
loser.  I  had  failed  in  Tordinona,  and  this  was  a  mor- 
tifying chagrin  for  me;  but  I  was  indemnified  by  the 
actors  of  Capranica.  This  theatre,  which  for  several 
years  had  devoted  itself  to  my  pieces,  was  then  acting 
the  comedy  of  "  Pamela."  The  play  was  bo  well  acted 
and  afforded  such  pleasure,  that  it  alone  supported  the 
theatre  from  its  opening  to^the  close,  that  is,  from  the 
26th  of  December  to  Shrove  Tuesday. 

Every  time  that  I  went  was  a  new  triumph  for  me. 
The  actors  of  Capranica,  whom  I  had  extolled  to  the 
skies  because  they  were  deserving  of  it,  entreated  me 
to  have  the  goodness  to  compose  a  piece  for  their  the- 
atre. They  were  in  no  want  of  a  comedy  from  me, 
because  they  had  all  those  which  I  printed  every  year 
1o  choose  from  ;  but  it  was  a  kindness  they  wished  to 
show  me  by  way  of  gratitude,  for  the  profits  which 
they  had  derived  from  my  works.  I  consented  To 
gratify  their  desire  without  appearing  to  have  any  idea 
«;f  their  intention.  I  asked  them  if  they  had  any  sub- 
ject to  give  me  which  might  be  agreeable  to  them. 
They  proposed  the  continuation  of  ' '  Pamela."  I  prom- 
ised to  furnish  them  with  it  before  my  departure  :  I 
kept  my  word  and  they  were  satisfied  :  I  was  not  less 
so  with  the  noble  and  generous  manner  in  which  they 
recompensed  me  for  my  trouble.  This  comedy  appears 
in  the  collection  of  my  works  under  the  title  of  "Pamela 


332  MEMOIRS   OF 

Maritata."  I  did  not  witness  the  representation  of  this 
piece  ;  I  learned,  however,  that  its  success  was  less  brill- 
iant than  that  of  the  preceding  part  of  "  Pamela/'  and 
this  did  not  astonish  me.  There  was  more  study  and 
refinement  in  the  second,  and  more  interest  and  action 
in  the  first.  The  one  was  adapted  for  the  theatre  and 
the  other  for  the  closet.  I  Leg  pardon  of  those  who 
commissioned  it,  if  I  disappointed  them  in  their  views. 
I  gave  them  the  choice  of  their  subject,  and  I  cannot 
reproach  myself  with  having  neglected  it. 

XII. 

The  carnival  begins  almost  universally  throughout 
all  Italy,  toward  the  end  of  December  or  beginning  of 
January.  At  Rome  the  time  of  gayety  or  folly,  dis- 
tinguished for  the  liberties  of  the  masks,  does  not 
commence  till  Shrovetide  ;  the  mask  is  only  tolerated 
from  two  to  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  At  night- 
fall every  person  ought  to  appear  without  a  mask  ;  and 
it  may  be  said  that  the  carnival  of  Rome  lasts  only 
.twenty-four  hours,  but  this  short  time  is  admirably 
well  employed.  It  is  impossible  to  form  an  idea  of 
the  brilliancy  and  magnificence  of  these  eight  days. 
Throughout  the  whole  length  of  the  Corso  four  rows  of 
richly  decorated  carriages  are  to  be  seen;  the  two  lat- 
eral rows  are  merely  spectators  of  the  two  which  pass 
up  and  down  in  the  middle.  A  number  of  masks  on 
foot,  by  no  means  of  the  lower  orders,  ran  about  along 
the  pavement  singing  and  uttering  every  sort  of  drollery 
and  buffoonery,  and  throwing  profusion  of  sweetmeats 
into  the  carriages,  which  return  the  volleys  with  inter- 
est ;  so  that  in  the  evening  the  streets  are  covered  with 
brayed  sugar.     In  the  same  place  and  during  the  same 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  333 

days  the  horse-racing  takes  place  for  a  prize  of  a  piece 
of  stuff,  of  gold  or  silver.  The  horses  are  free,  and 
without  guides  ;  but,  trained  to  the  course,  irritated  by 
the  points  of  steel  which  goad  them,  and  animated  by 
the  shouts  and  clapping  of  hands  of  the  multitude, 
they  start  of  their  own  accord  from  the  palace  of 
St  Mark,  and  run  to  the  gates  of  the  city,  where 
they  are  stopped,  when  the  prize  is  adjudged  to  the 
foremost. 

I  was  fortunate  enough  to  enjoy  this  delightful  sight 
without  leaving  my  room  ;  my  landlord  destined  a 
balcony  for  me  in  the  hall  of  his  apartments,  and 
fixed  a  label  in  large  letters  over  it  containing  these 
words:  "  Balcony  for  the  Advocate  Goldoni."  There 
were  but  eight  windows,  and  the  Abbe had  in- 
vited sixty  individuals.  Those  who  entered  paid  no 
attention  to  the  placard  ;  every  one  endeavored  to  get 
the  first  seat,  and  my  poor  abbé  was  very  much  em- 
barrassed to  keep  a  place  for  me.  I  could  have  gone 
into  my  own  room,  with  his  wife  and  my  own,  but 
he  would  not  hear  of  such  a  thing,  and  insisted  on  my 
coming  to  the  hall.  On  entering  I  found  every  corner 
full,  but,  after  some  arrangement,  I  got  a  place.  On 
the  appearance  of  ladies  afterwards  we  were  obliged  to 
give  them  the  preference  ;  and  I  made  way  as  well  as 
the  rest,  and  remained  without  a  place.  The  abbé, 
quite  in  a  fury,  took  me  by  the  hand  and  dragged  me 
into  the  room,  displaced  his  wife  and  daughter,  and 
pushed  me,  whether  I  would  or  not,  to  the  front  of  the 
balcony,  where  he  seated  himself  beside  me  and  con  - 
tinued  to  point  out,  from  time  to  time,  the  carriages  of 
princes,  princesses,  and  cardinals,  whose  coachmen  he 
knew,  and  to  name  the  horses  whose  device  he  was 
enabled  to  distinguish. 


334  MEMOIRS    OF 

"When  all  was  over,  the  abbe's  embarrassment  be- 
came serious;  for  none  of  the  company  thought  of 
going  away.  He  had  asked  a  number  of  them  to  sup- 
per, and  he  did  not  recollect  either  the  names  or  the 
number  of  those  whom  he  had  invited.  Among  the 
company  were  several  musical  amateurs  ;  and  a  vocal 
and  instrumental  concert  was  struck  up.  Everything 
went  on  well,  but  still  nobody  thought  of  going  away. 
"What  was  to  be  done  ?  The  poor  abbé  came  to  me  in 
the  utmost  consternation,  and  consulted  with  me  on 
the  subject  of  his  embarrassment.  "  This  is  nothiug, 
my  friend,"  said  I  to  him;  ''you  have  committed  a 
piece  of  folly,  and  you  must  pay  for  it."  "But  then, 
forty  or  fifty  —  "  "Courage,  my  dear  abbé."  said  I, 
"courage;  send  for  violins;  cover  a  little  sideboard 
with  all  expedition  :  set  the  company  a  dancing  and 
extricate  yourself  the  best  way  you  can."  He  ap- 
proved of  my  proposal;  the  ball  was  given;  the  re- 
freshments were  found  sufficient  ;  the  night  was  spent 
brilliantly,  and  everybody  went  away  well  pleased. 

We  were  near  the  close  of  the  carnival,  and  we  spent 
these  last  days  of  gayety  with  one  another  in  the  most 
agreeable  manner.  On  the  arrival  of  Lent  we  changed 
decorations,  but  we  did  not  amuse  ourselves  the  less. 
Everywhere  music  and  card-tables  were  to  be  found. 
The  most  common  game  was  mouche,  called  the  Beast. 
I  remarked  there  a  degree  of  politeness  towards  women 
which  I  have  never  elsewhere  observed.  If  a  lady  is 
in  danger  of  being  the  beast,  a  small  card  is  played  to 
save  her  from  this  disagreeable  predicament. 

I  quitted  Rome  on  the  2d  of  August,  to  the  great 
regret  of  my  host,  from  whom  I  experienced  the  great- 
est kindness.  He  never  ceased  to  write  to  me,  and 
he  sent  me  every  year  Roman  almanacs  to  the  day 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  ôoO 

of  his  death.  In  returning  to  my  country  I  took  the 
road  through  Tuscany,  and  I  felt  an  infinite  pleas- 
ure in  seeing  again  that  delightful  country,  where  for 
four  years  I  had  been  so  agreeably  occupied.     I  saw 

nearly  all  my  old  friends.  I  turned  off  a  little  from 
my  road  to  revisit  Pisa,  Leghorn,  and  Lucca.  I  began 
to  hid  adieu  to  Italy,  without  knowing  that  I  was  to 
quit  it  forever. 

I  had  scarcely  time  to  breathe  when  I  was  again 
summoned  to  labor.  I  arrived  on  the  first  day  of  Sep- 
tember, and  the  theatre  was  to  be  opened  on  the  4th 
of  the  following  month.  I  had  done  nothing  yet.  I 
was  too  agreeably  occupied  at  Rome  to  find  leisure  to 
write.  I  was  laborious;  but  I  have  always  been  fond 
of  pleasure,  and,  withoutrlosing  sight  of  my  engage- 
ments, I  availed  myself  of  my  moments  of  liberty.  I 
knew  that  I  possessed  great  facility,  and  I  always  la- 
bored with  more  ardor  when  I  was  limited  in  point  of 
time. 

It  must  also  be  owned  that  time,  experience,  and 
habit  had  so  familiarized  me  with  the  art  of  comedy, 
that,  after  inventing  the  subjects  and  selecting  the 
characters,  all  the  rest  was  mere  routine  for  me.  At 
first  I  went  through  four  operations  before  finishing  the 
composition  and  correction  of  a  piece.  First  operation  : 
the  plan,  with  the  division,  three  principal  parts,  the 
exposition,  the  intrigue,  and  the  winding-up.  Second 
operation  :  the  division  of  the  action  into  acts  and 
scenes.  Third  :  the  dialogue  of  the  most  interesting 
scenes.  Fourth  :  the  geueral  dialogue  of  the  whole  of 
the  piece.  It  frequently  happened  that,  in  this  last 
operation,  I  changed  all  that  I  had  done  in  my  second 
and  third  ;  for  ideas  succeed  one  another  ;  one  scene 
produces  another  ;  one  chance  expression  furnishes  a 


336  MEMOIRS    OF 

new  thought.  After  some  time  I  became  enabled  to 
reduce  the  four  operations  to  one  alone  ;  having  the 
plan  and  the  three  divisions  in  my  head,  I  began  at 
once,  Act  the  First,  Scene  the  First,  and  proceeded 
straight  on  to  the  conclusion,  with  this  maxim  always 
in  view,  that  all  the  lines  ought  to  terminate  in  a  fixed 
point,  that  is,  in  the  winding-up  of  the  action,  which  is 
the  principal  part  for  which  all  the  machines  are  put  in 
motion.  I  have  rarely  been  disappointed  in  my  catas- 
trophies.  This  I  may  boldly  say,  as  it  has  been  uni- 
versally allowed,  and  the  matter  seems  to  me  by  no 
means  attended  with  difficulty.  It  is  very  easy  to  have 
a  fortunate  winding-up,  when  it  has  been  well  prepared 
in  the  beginning  of  the  piece,  and  never  lost  sight  of 
in  the  course  of  the  work. 

I  began  then,  and  finished  in  fifteen  days,  a  com- 
edy of  three  acts,  in  prose,  entitled  "  Gl'  innamorati" 
(The.  Lovers).  The  title  promised  nothing  new,  for 
there  are  few  plays  without  love  ;  but  I  knew  none 
where  the  lovers  resemble  those  which  I  drew  in  this. 
Lr.ve  would  be  the  most  dreadful  scourge  on  the  face 
of  the  earth,  were  all  lovers  as  impassioned  and  miser- 
able as  the  two  principal  characters  of  my  comedy.  I 
knew  the  originals,  however,  and  had  seen  them  at 
Rome,  where  I  was  the  confidant  of  both.  I  was  the 
witness  of  their  passion  and  affection,  and  frequently  of 
their  fits  of  raving  and  ridiculous  transports.  I  had 
more  than  once  witnessed  their  quarrels,  cries,  and  des- 
peration, with  torn  handkerchiefs,  broken  glasses,  and 
knives  drawn.  My  lovers  are  extravagant,  but  they 
are  not  the  less  true.  I  am  willing  to  allow  that  there 
is  more  truth  than  probability  in  this  work  ;  but,  from 
the  certainty  of  the  fact,  I  imagined  it  possible  to  rep- 
resent a  picture  which  should  dispose  some  to  laugh, 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  337 

and  inspire  others  with  fear.  Such  a  subject  in  France 
would  not  have  been  supportable.  In  Italy  it  was  con- 
sidered somewhat  exaggerated,  and  I  heard  several  per- 
sons of  my  acquaintance  boast  of  having  been  nearly 
in  the  same  situation.  I  was  nut  wrong  then  in  paint- 
ing, in  strong  colors,  the  follies  of  love  in  a  country 
where  the  heart  and  the  head  are  more  than  anywhere 
else  heated  by  the  power  of  the  climate. 


XIII. 

With  "  La  Donna  Stravagaute  "  (The  Capricious 
Woman)  we  opened  the  carnival  of  1760.  The  prin- 
cipal character  of  the  piece  was  so  wicked,  that  the 
women  would  not  have  allowed  it  to  be  natural,  and 
I  was  obliged,  therefore,  to  say  that  it  was  pure  in- 
vention. This  piece  was  pretty  successful,  and  would 
have  been  more  so,  but  Madame  Bresciani,  whose  nat- 
ural disposition  was  a  little  capricious,  imagined  her- 
self portrayed  in  it,  and  the  work  suffered  from  her  ill 
humor.  I  soon  made  reparation  for  my  injuries  to- 
wards this  excellent  actress.  I  composed  a  Venetian 
piece,  entitled  "  Le  Baruffe  Chiozzote"  (The  Dis- 
putes of  the  People  of  Chiozza).  This  low  comedy 
produced  an  admirable  effect.  Madame  Bresciani, 
notwithstanding  her  Tuscan  accent,  had  acquired  the 
Venetian  manners  and  pronunciation  so  well,  that  she 
afforded  as  much  pleasure  in  low  as  in  genteel  comedy. 
I  had  been  coadjutor  of  the  criminal  chancellor  at 
Chiozza  in  my  youth  ;  an  office  corresponding  with 
that  of  substitute  of  the  lieutenant-criminel.  My  situ- 
ation brought  me  in  contact  with  that  numerous  and 
tumultuous  population  of  fishermen,  sailors,  and  low 
women,  whose  only  place  of  assemblage  was  the  open 


338  MEMOIRS    OF 

street.  I  knew  their  manners,  their  singular  language, 
their  gayety,  and  their  malice  ;  I  was  enabled  to  paint 
them  accurately  ;  and  the  capital,  which  is  only  eight 
leagues  distant  from  that  town,  was  perfectly  well 
acquainted  with  my  originals.  The  piece  had  the 
most  brilliant  success  ;  and  with  it  we  closed  the  car- 
nival. 

On  the  Ash -"Wednesday  following,  I  was  at  one  of 
those  spare  suppers  with  which  our  Venetian  epicures 
commence  their  Lent  collations.  We  had  every  fish 
which  the  Adriatic  Sea  or  the  Lake  di  Garda  could 
supply.  The  conversation  turned  on  plays,  and  the 
modesty  of  the  author,  who  was  one  of  the  guests,  was 
not  spared.  Wearied  with  hearing  the  same  thing  over 
and  over  again,  and  by  way  of  putting  a  stop  to  com- 
pliments and  eulogies  without  end,  I  imparted  to  the 
society  a  project  which  I  had  just  conceived.  The  wine 
and  other  liquors  had  elevated  the  minds  of  the  com- 
pany ;  but  they  became  instantly  silent,  and  listened 
attentively  to  me.  It  was  a  new  edition  of  my  "  The- 
atre "  which  I  wished  to  speak  to  them  about.  I  en- 
deavored to  be  as  brief  as  possible  ;  but  I  said  enough 
to  make  my  meaning  understood.  I  was  applauded 
and  encouraged,  and  paper  and  ink  were  sent  for.  The 
party  was  composed  of  eighteen  individuals,  without  in- 
cluding myself  ;  a  subscription-paper  was  immediately 
drawn  up  ;  each  individual  subscribed  for  ten  copies  ; 
and  by  this  manœuvre  I  procured  a  hundred  and  eighty 
subscriptions.  This  was  the  origin  of  my  Pasquali 
edition,  of  which  I  have  spoken  enough  in  the  Preface 
to  these  Memoirs.  I  will  not  exhaust  the  reader's  pa- 
tience further  at  present,  but  proceed  to  communicate 
a  letter  which  I  received  some  days  afterwards  from 
Ferney. 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  339 

Perhaps  you  may  imagine  it  was  from  M.  de  Vol- 
taire. In  that  case  you  are  mistaken.  I  have  received 
several  letters  from  that  great  and  wonderful  man; 
but  at  that  time  I  had  not  the  honor  to  correspond 
with  him. 

The  letter  of  which  I  am  speaking  was  signed  Poin- 
sinet.  I  knew  nothing  of  him,  but  he  announced  him- 
self as  an  author.  He  spoke  of  several  pieces  com- 
posed by  him  for  the  comic  opera  at  Paris  :  he  said 
he  was  on  a  visit  to  his  friend,  at  Ferney,  from  whom 
he  had  instructions  to  mention  a  number  of  things  ; 
and  he  requested  me  to  return  an  answer  to  him  at 
Paris. 

He  wrote  to  me  on  the  subject  of  a  translation  of  all 
my  theatrical  works  into  French,  which  he  had  in  con- 
templation. He  asked  me  bluntly,  and  without  any 
ceremony,  for  the  manuscripts  of  my  pieces  not  yet 
printed,  and  for  the  communication  of  any  anecdotes 
respecting  myself.  I  was  at  first  induced  to  believe 
myself  honored  in  the  wish  expressed  by  a  French  au- 
thor, to  enter  upon  a  translation  of  my  works  ;  but  I 
could  not  help  thinking  his  demands  a  little  premature: 
and,  being  personally  unacquainted  with  him,  I  returned 
an  answer,  couched  in  respectful  terms,  but  sufficient 
to  dissuade  him  from  his  undertaking. 

I  informed  M.  Poinsinet,  that  I  was  engaged  in  a 
new  edition,  with  corrections  and  alterations,  and  that 
my  pieces  were,  besides,  full  of  the  diiferent  Italian  di- 
alects, which  rendered  it  almost  impossible  for  a  stran- 
ger to  execute  a  translation  of  my  "  Theatre." 

I  thought  this  sufficient  :  by  no  means  ;  for  I  re- 
ceived à  second  letter  from  the  same  author,  dated  from 
Paris  :  "I  shall  expect  from  you,  sir,  the  changes  and 
corrections  which  you  propose  to  make  in  your  new 


340  MEMOIRS   OF 

edition.  With  respect  to  the  different  Italian  dialects, 
do  not  alarm  yourself;  I  have  a  servant  who  has  gone 
over  all  Italy,  and  can  explain  them  to  me  to  your 
satisfaction."  I  was  very  highly  offended  at  this  pro- 
posal, and  supposed  that  the  French  author  was  laugh- 
ing at  me.  I  went  instantly  to  Count  de  Baschi,  the 
French  ambassador  at  Venice,  and  communicated  to 
him  the  two  letters  of  M.  de  Poinsinet,  requesting  him 
to  inform  me  what  sort  of  a  man  he  was. 

I  do  not  recollect  what  his  excellency  told  me  with 
respect  to  M.  Poinsinet,  but  he  delivered  me  a  letter 
which  he  had  received  with  the  despatches  from  his 
court.  This  was  a  very  agreeable  piece  of  news  for 
me,  and  I  shall  proceed  to  give  an  account  of  it. 

The  letter  delivered  to  me  by  the  French  ambassa- 
dor was  from  M.  Zanuzzi,  the  principal  actor  of  the 
Italian  theatre  at  Paris.  This  man,  equally  respecta- 
ble for  his  character  and  his  talents,  had  carried  with 
him,  into  France,  the  manuscript  of  my  comedy,  en- 
titled "  Harlequin's  Child  Lost  and  Found."  This 
piece  he  had  presented  to  his  companions,  by  whom  it 
was  approved  of  and  acted.  It  had  given  great  pleas- 
ure, he  told  me,  and  had  confirmed  the  reputation 
long  enjoyed  by  my  works  in  that  country,  where  a 
desire  was  felt  to  have  me. 

M.  Zanuzzi,  after  this  introduction,  informed  me 
that  he  was  empowered  by  the  principal  gentlemen  of 
the  king's  bedchamber,  intrusted  with  the  regulation 
of  theatrical  entertainments,  to  offer  me  an  engage- 
ment for  two  years,  with  an  honorable  salary. 

Count  Baschi  described  to  me,  at  the  same  time, 
the  eagerness  which  the  Duke  d'Aumont,  the  first  gen- 
tleman of  the  chamber  on  duty,  displayed  to  procure 
me  ;  and  he  added,  that,  in  case  of  any  difficulty,  he 


CARLO  COLDOXI.  341 

would  make  a  demand  in  form  to  the  government  of 
the  republic. 

For  a  long  time  I  had  been  desirous  of  seeing  Paris, 
and  I  was  at  first  tempted  to  answer  in  the  affirmative  ; 
hut  I  did  not  feel  myself  exactly  at  liberty  to  follow 
my  own  inclination  exclusively,  and  I  demanded  some 
time  for  consideration. 

I  was  in  the  receipt  of  a  pension  from  the  Duke  of 
Parma,  and  I  had  an  engagement  at  Venice.  I  was, 
therefore,  under  the  necessity  of  asking  the  prince's 
permission,  and  obtaining  the  consent  of  the  noble 
Venetian  who  was  the  proprietor  of  the  theatre  of 
St.  Luke.  Neither  of  these  I  considered  as  difficult 
to  obtain  ;  but  I  loved  my  country,  where  I  was  cher- 
ished, caressed,  and  applauded.  The  criticisms  against 
me  had  ceased,  and  I  was  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  delight- 
ful tranquillity. 

The  engagement  in  France  was  only  for  two  years  ; 
but  I  could  easily  see,  that  when  once  expatriated,  I 
should  find  it  very  difficult  to  return.  My  situation 
was  precarious,  and  required  the  exertion  of  painful 
and  assiduous  labors,  and  I  trembled  at  the  dreary  days 
of  old  age,  when  our  powers  diminish  and  our  wants 
increase. 

I  spoke  to  my  friends  and  protectors  at  Venice.  I 
explained  to  them  that  I  did  not  look  upon  my  journey 
to  France  in  the  light  of  a  journey  of  mere  pleasure, 
but  that  I  was  prompted  to  accept  of  it  from  the  neces- 
sity of  securing  to  myself  an  establishment. 

I  added,  to  those  who  seemed  desirous  of  retaining 
me  at  Venice,  that,  as  an  advocate,  I  could  pretend 
to  every  sort  of  employment,  and  even  to  a  place  in  the 
magistracy  ;  and  I  concluded  my  harangue  with  a 
sincere  and  decisive  declaration,  that,  if  thev  would 


342,  MEMOIRS   OF 

undertake  to  secure  me  an  establishment  at  Venice, 
either  under  the  title  of  office  or  pension,  I  should 
prefer  my  country  to  the  whole  universe. 

I  was  listened  to  with  attention  and  interest.  My 
reflections  were  approved  of  as  just,  and  my  behavior 
considered  respectful.  Every  one  untertook  to  en- 
deavor to  satisfy  me.  Many  meetings  were  held  on 
my  account;  and  the  following  is  the  result  of  them. 

In  a  republican  state  favors  are  only  granted  by  a 
majority  of  votes.  Those  who  demand  them  must 
wait  a  long  time  before  they  can  be  balloted  ;  and 
with  respect  to  pensions,  when  there  is  any  competi- 
tion, the  useful  arts  are  always  preferred  to  agreeable 
talents.  This  was  enough  to  determine  me  to  renounce 
all  expectations  from  this  quarter. 

I  wrote  to  Parma,  and  obtained  the  desired  permis- 
sion. With  a  little  effort  I  overcame  the  opposition 
of  the  proprietor  of  the  theatre  of  St.  Luke  ;  and  when 
I  was  at  full  liberty,  I  engaged  with  the  French  am- 
bassador, aud  wrote  in  consequence  to  M.  Zanuzzi  at 
Paris.  It  was  but  just,  however,  that  I  should' allow  my 
actors  and  their  master  time  to  provide  themselves  with 
an  author,  and  I  fixed  my  departure  from  Venice  for 
the  month  of  April,  1761. 

I  then  set  out  from  Venice  with  my  wife  and 
nephew.  On  arriving  at  Bologna,  I  fell  sick.  I  was 
forced  to  compose  a  comic  opera,  which  partook 
strongly  of  my  fever.  Fortunately,  the  opera  only 
was  buried.  On  recovering  my  health,  I  continued  my 
journey.  I  passed  through  Modena,  where  I  merely 
renewed  my  power  of  attorney  to  my  notary  on  account 
of  the  assignment  to  my  nephew,  and  next  day  I  set 
off  for  Parma.  I  passed  eight  days  in  that  town  very 
agreeably.      I  had  dedicated  my  new  edition  to  the 


CARLO   GOLDÔNI.  343 

Infante  Don  Philip  :  I  had  the  honor  to  present  him 
With  the  two  first  volumes;  and  I  kissed  their  royal 
highnesses'  hands.  I  then  saw.  for  the  first  time,  the 
Infante  Don  Fernando,  at  that  time  hereditary  prince, 
and  now  reigning  duke.  He  did  inè  the  honor  to  con- 
verse with  me,  and  to  congratulate  me  on  my  journey 
to  France.  "  You  are  very  fortunate,"  said  he;  "  you 
Will  see  the  king  my  grandfather."  I  augured,  from  his 
gentleness,  that  this  prince  would  one  day  turn  out  the 
delight  of  his  subjects  :  and  I  have  not  heen  mistaken. 
The  Infante  Don  Fernando  is  adored  by  his  people,  and 
the  august  archduchess,  his  spouse,  has  carried  the 
public  felicity  and  the  glory  of  this  government  to 
their  utmost  height. 

I  had  volumes  with  me  to  present  to  her  highness 
the  Princess  Henrietta  of  Modena,  Duchess  Dowager  of 
Parma,  and  latterly  Landgravine  of  D'Armstadt.  The 
princess,  who  resided  at  Borgo  San  Domino,  between 
Parma  and  Piacenza,  was  then  at  Corte  Maggiore, 
her  country-house.  I  went  several  miles  out  of  my 
road  to  pay  my  court  to  her.  I  met  with  a  very 
favorable  reception,  and  was  honored  with  comfortable 
lodgings  for  myself  and  people.  We  passed  three 
days  there  very  delightfully.  The  ladies  and  gentle- 
men of  the  court,  who  were  in  the  habit  of  acting  my 
plays  on  the  theatre  of  the  landgravine,  were  anxious 
to  treat  me  with  an  entertainment  ;  but  the  heat  was 
excessive,  and  I  was  desirous  of  reaching  Piacenza. 
On  arriving  in  that  city,  we  were  overpowered  with 
kind  attentions  and  new  pleasures.  The  Marquis 
Casati,  who  was  one  of  my  subscribers,  expected  me 
with  impatience.  We  found  everything  which  we 
could  wish  for  in  his  house  ;  excellent  lodgings,  good 
cheer;  and  delightful  company.     The  marchioness  and 


344  MEMOIRS   OF 

her  daughter-in-law  were  studious  in  the  extreme  to 
please  us  ;  we  remained  there  four  days,  and  we  could 
hardly  prevail  on  them  to  allow  us  to  proceed  ;  hut  we 
had  lost  too  much  time  already,  and  we  had  spent  no 
less  than  three  months  since  leaving  Venice.  "Not- 
withstanding, therefore,  the  insupportable  heat,  we 
were  obliged  to  set  out  again. 

When  at  Piacenza,  it  became  necessary  to  choose  by 
what  road  I  should  proceed  to  France.  My  wife  was 
desirous  of  seeing  her  relations  before  we  quitted  Italy  ; 
and  I  therefore  preferred  the  road  by  Genoa  to  that  of 
Turin,  for  her  sake.  We  passed  eight  days  in  a  very 
gay  manner  in  the  native  place  of  my  wife  ;  hut  the 
period  of  separation  was  attended  with  many  sighs  and 
tears.  It  was  the  more  distressing,  as  our  relations 
never  expected  to  see  us  again.  I  promised  to  return 
in  two  years,  but  they  did  not  believe  me.  At  last, 
amidst  adieus,  embraces,  tears,  and  cries,  we  embarked 
in  the  felucca  of  the  French  courier,  and  set  sail  for 
Antibes,  steering  along  the  shore  which  the  Italians 
call  La  Riviera  di  Genova.  We  were  driven  from  the 
roads  by  a  hurricane,  and  almost  cast  away  in  doubling 
Cape  Noli.  The  unfavorable  state  of  the  weather  pre- 
vented us  from  proceeding  on  our  voyage.  The  courier, 
who  durst  not  delay  his  journey,  took  a  horse,  and  went 
on  by  land,  and  exposed  himself  to  the  difficulty  of 
crossing  mountains  still  more  dangerous  than  the  sea. 
For  forty-eight  hours  every  idea  of  re-embarking  was 
out  of  the  question.  The  sea  still  continuing  boister- 
ous, I  went  down  to  Nice,  where  the  roads  were  practi- 
cable. I  quitted  the  felucca,  and  sought  for  a  carriage. 
We  found  one  hy  chance,  which  had  arrived  the  day 
before.  It  was  the  berlin  which  conveyed  to  Nice  the 
famous  Mademoiselle  Deschamps,  on  her  escape  from 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  345 

the  prison  of  Lyons.  I  was  told  a  part  of  her  story. 
I  slept  in  the  room  destined  for  her,  and  which  she 
refused  to  accept  on  account  of  a  hug  which  she  dis- 
covered on  entering  it.  I  found  the  carriage  very  com- 
fortable; and  I  bargained  for  my  fare  to  Lyons,  on 
condition  of  being  allowed  to  go  by  Marseilles,  and  to 
stay  there  a  few  days.  The  driver  belonged  to  that 
country  ;  so  that  we  had  little  difficulty  in  coming  to  an 
agreement.  I  set  out  from  Nice  next  day,  and  crossed 
the  Var,  which  separates  France  from  Italy.  Here  I 
reiterated  my  adieu  to  my  own  country,  and  invoked 
the  shade  of  Molière  to  be  my  guide  in  that  of  his. 


PART    THE    THIRD. 


I. 

X  entering  the  kingdom  of  France,  I  was  soon 
struck  with  the  French  politeness.  I  had  ex- 
perienced several  disagreeable  circumstances  at 
the  Italian  custom-houses  :  but  I  was  visited  in 
two  minutes  at  the  harrier  of  St.  Laurent,  near  the  Var, 
and  my  trunks  were  not  rummaged.  On  arriving  at  Ami- 
bes, I  received  unspeakable  attenion  from  the  command- 
ant of  that  frontier  place.  I  wished  to  show  him  my 
passport.  '  '  I  can  dispense  with  that,  sir,"  said  he  ;  "  you 
are  anxiously  expected  at  Paris,  and  you  must  quicken 
your  journey."  I  proceeded  onwards,  and  slept  the  first 
night  at  Vidauban.  Supper  was  brought  in.  We  had  no 
soup  on  the  table  ;  my  wife  required  some,  and  my  nephew 
was  also  desirous  of  having  it.  On  calling  for  it,  we  found 
that  no  person  takes  soup  in  France  in  the  evening. 
My  nephew  maintained  that  supper  took  its  name  from 
soup,  and  that  consequently  there  ought  to  be  soup  at 
every  supper.  The  landlord,  who  understood  nothing 
of  these  distinctions,  made  his  bow,  and  went  out. 

My  young  man  was  correct  in  the  main,  and  I  amused 
myself  in  entering  on  a  short  dissertation  respecting 
the  etymology  of  supper  and  the  suppression  of  soup. 
"  The  ancients,"  said  I,  u  made  only  one  meal  a  day, 


CARLO  GOLDONL  347 

the  cœna,  which  was  served  up  in  the  evening  ;  and  as 
this  repast  always  began  with  soup,  the  French  changed 
the  word  ccena  into  supper.  In  progress  of  time  luxury 
and  gluttony  multiplied  the  number  of  meals;  soup 
was  taken  from  the  sapper,  and  added  to  the  dinner, 
and  the  ccena  is  now  in  France  merely  a  supper  with- 
out soup."  My  nephew,  who  kept  a  little  journal  of 
our  travels,  did  not  fail  to  enter  in  his  memorandum- 
book  this  piece  of  erudition  of  mine,  which,  however 
whimsical  it  may  appear,  is  not  destitute  of  truth. 

We  set  out  next  day  from  Vidauban  at  an  early  hoar, 
and  arrived  in  the  evening  at  Marseilles.  M.  Cornet, 
the  Venetian  consul  in  this  town,  waited  on  us  without 
delay  ',  he  offered  us  apartments  in  his  house,  which, 
from  a  sense  of  delicacy,  we  were  induced  to  refuse  ; 
but,  being  tormented  in  the  course  of  the  night  by  the 
insupportable  vermin  which  sting  and  infect  at  the 
same  time,  we  were  obliged  to  accept  of  the  generous 
offer  of  the  brother  of  our  gond  friends  of  Venice. 

We  enjoyed  the  sight  of  Marseilles  for  six  days.  Its 
situation  is  agreeable  ;  it  carries  on  a  rich  commerce  ; 
its  inhabitants  are  very  amiable,  and  the  port  is  a  mas- 
terpiece of  nature  and  art. 

Continuing  our  journey,  we  passed  through  Aix. 
We  merely  passed  in  a  carnage  on  the  superb  prome- 
nade called  the  Cours  ;  and  we  arrived  at  an  early  hour 
at  Avignon. 

I  had  been  now  four  months  from  Venice.  Part  of 
the  time  I  was  confined  to  my  bed  at  Bologna,  but  I 
had  taken  a  great  deal  of  amusement  since  my  recovery, 
and  I  began  to  be  afraid  lest  the  slowness  of  my  jour- 
ney should  injure  me  in  the  minds  of  those  who  were 
expecting  me  at  Paris.  On  arriving  at  Lyons,  I  found 
a  letter  from   M.  Zanuzzi  lying  there  for  me  ;  it  was 


348  MEMOIRS    OF 

full  of  reproaches,  somewhat  keen  I  must  own,  but 
not  so  sharp  as  I  deserved.     Man  is  an  inconceivable 

and  indefinable  being-.  I  cannot  explain  to  myself  the 
motives  which  sometimes  induce  me  to  act  against  my 
principles  and  against  my  interest.  With  the  best  in- 
tentions in  the  world  to  give  myself  entirely  up  to 
whatever  I  am  interested  in,  I  am  stopped  or  turned 
from  my  road  by  the  merest  trifles.  An  innocent 
pleasure,  a  piece  of  respectful  complaisance,  a  feeling 
of  curiosity,  a  friendly  advice,  an  engagement  of  little 
moment,  are  none  of  them  to  be  considered  as  vicious  ; 
but  there  are  cases  and  circumstances  in  which  what- 
ever withdraws  the  mind  from  what  it  is  employed  on 
may  be  considered  dangerous  :  and  I  have  never  been 
able  to  shut  my  mind  against  yielding  to  these  seduc- 
tions. I  ought  to  have  set  out  from  Lyons  the  instant 
after  I  received  that  letter:  but  how  could  I  possibly 
quit  one  of  the  most  beautiful  cities  in  France  without 
viewing  it  ?  Could  I  omit  visiting  those  manufactories 
which  supply  Europe  with  their  stuffs  and  their  de- 
signs ?  I  lodged  in  the  royal  park,  and  remained  there 
ten  days  ;  did  it  require  ten  days.  I  may  be  ashed,  to 
examine  what  was  worth  observation  in  Lyons?  No  : 
but  that  time  was  hardly  sufficient  to  allow  me  to 
accept  all  the  dinners  and  suppers  which  those  rich 
manufacturers  vied  with  each  other  in  giving  me.  Be- 
sides, I  injured  no  person.  My  salary  was  not  to  com- 
mence till  my  arrivai  in  Paris  :  and  supposing  the 
Italian  comedians  to  be  in  want  of  me,  I  was  certain 
that  by  activity  I  should  be  enabled  to  indemnify  them 
on  my  arrival.  But  this  want  was  at  an  end  ;  for, 
during  my  journey,  the  comic  opera  had  been  united  to 
the  Italian  comedy  ;  the  new  branch  gained  ground  on 
the  old  ;  and  the  Italians,  who  were  before  the  support 


CARLO  GOLDOKL  349 

of  this  theatre,  became  only  the  accessories  of  the 
entertainment.  I  was  informed  of  this  innovation  at 
Lyons,  though  not  so  minutely  as  to  enable  me  to  form 
an  idea  of  all  the  unpleasant  circumstances  with  which 
the  change  would  affect  me.  I  even  imagined  that  my 
countrymen  would  consider  their  honor  at  stake,  would 
vie  in  emulation  with  their  new  comrades,  and  I  sup- 
posed them  perfectly  enabled  to  sustain  the  conflict. 
Animated  by  this  confidence,  with  my  usual  gayety 
and  courage  I  took  the  road  to  the  capital  ;  and  the 
beauty  of  the  journey,  and  the  fertility  of  the  plains 
throug-fi  which  I  passed,  filled  my  mind  with  the  most 
cheerful  ideas  and  flattering  hopes. 

On  arriving  at  Yillejuif,  I  found  M.  Zanuzzi,  and 
Madame  Savi,  the  principal  actress  of  the  Italian  com- 
edy. They  made  my  wife  and  myself  take  a  place  in 
their  carriage  ;  my  nephew  followed  in  miue  ;  and  we 
alighted  at  the  Faubourg  St.  Denis,  where  they  both 
lodged  in  the  same  house.  My  arrival  was  celebrated 
the  same  day  by  a  very  gallant  and  gay  supper,  to 
which  part  of  the  Italian  comedians  were  invited.  "We 
were  fatigued,  but  we  partook  with  pleasure  of  the  de- 
lights of  a  brilliant  society,  in  which  were  blended  the 
French  sallies  with  the  noise  of  Italian  conversation. 

Restored  after  the  fatigues  of  the  journey  by  that 
delicious  nectar  which  may  well  gain  for  Burgundy  the 
name  of  the  Land  of  Promise,  I  passed  a  sweet  and 
tranquil  night.  On  awaking,  my  mind  was  in  as 
agreeable  a  state  as  it  had  been  in  during  my  dreams. 
I  was  in  Paris  ;  I  was  happy  ;  but  I  had  yet  seen 
nothing,  and  I  was  dying  to  view  the  place.  I  spoke 
to  my  friend  and  host.  "  We  must  begin,"  said  he, 
"  with  paying  visits:  we  must  wait  for  the  carriage." 
"  By  no  means,"  said  I;    "I  shall  see  nothing  in  a 


00 


0  MEMOIRS    OF 


coach  ;  let  us  set  out  ou  foot."  "  But  the  distance  is 
great."  "  Never  mind  it."  "  It  is  hot."  "  That  can- 
not be  helped."  In  fact,  the  heat  was  this  year  equal 
to  that  of  Italy  ;  but  it  was  a  circumstance  of  little 
moment  for  me.  I  was  then  only  fifty-three  ;  I  was 
strong,  healthy,  and  vigorous,  and  curiosity  and  impa- 
tience lent  me  wings. 

In  crossing  the  Boulevards,  I  had  a  glimpse  of  that 
vast  promenade  which  surrounds  the  city,  and  affords 
to  passengers  the  coolness  of  the  shade  in  summer,  and 
the  heat  of  the  sun  in  winter.  I  entered  the  Palais 
Royal.  What  crowds  !  what  an  assemblage  of  people 
of  every  description  !  what  a  charming  rendezvous  ! 
what  a  delightful  promenade  Î  But  with  what  a  sur- 
prising view  my  senses  and  mind  were  struck  on  ap- 
proaching the  Tuileries  !  I  saw  the  whole  extent  of 
that  immense  garden,  which  has  nothing  to  be  com- 
pared with  it  in  the  universe  ;  and  my  eyes  were  unable 
to  measure  the  length  of  it.  I  hastily  ran  through  its 
alleys,  its  thickets,  its  terraces,  basins,  and  borders.  I 
have  seen  very  rich  gardens,  superb  buildings,  and 
precious  monuments  ;  but  nothing  can  equal  the  mag- 
nificence of  the  Tuileries.  On  leaving  this  enchant- 
ing place  I  was  struck  with  another  spectacle,  — -  a 
majestic  river,  numerous  and  convenient  bridges,  vast 
quays,  crowds  of  carriages,  a  perpetual  throng  of 
people.  I  was  stunned  by  the  noise,  fatigued  with 
the  distance,  and  overpowered  by  the  excessive  heat. 
I  was  bathed  in  perspiration  without  being  aware 
of  it. 

We  crossed  the  Pont  Royal,  and  entered  the  Hôtel 
d'Aumout.  The  duke  was  at  home.  This  principal 
gentleman  of  the  king's  bedchamber,  who  was  in  his 
year  of  duty,  had  sent  for  me  to  Paris  ;  and  he  received 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  351 

me  with  kindness,  and  has  always  continued  to  honor  me 
with  his  favor.  It  was  late,  and  we  had  not  sufficient 
time  to  pay  all  the  visits  which  we  projected.  We  called 
a  coach  and  drove  to  Mademoiselle  Camilla  Veronese's, 
where  we  were  expected  to  dinner.  It  was  impossi- 
ble to  be  more  gay  and  amiable  than  Mademoiselle 
Camilla.  She  acted  waiting-maids  in  the  Italian  the- 
atre, and  she  was  the  delight  of  Paris  on  the  stage, 
and  of  every  society  which  had  the  felicity  of  enjoying 
her  company.  We  sat  down  to  dinner.  The  guests 
were  numerous,  the  dinner  delicious,  and  the  company 
amusing.  We  took  coffee  at  table,  and  did  not  quit  it 
till  we  went  to  the  theatre. 

The  Italian  theatre  was  then  in  the  street  Mau- 
conseil.  It  was  the  old"  Hôtel  de  Bourgogne,  where 
Molière  displayed  his  talents  and  skill.  That  I  might 
have  a  better  opportunity  of  knowing  my  Italian  ac- 
tors, I  took  apartments  near  the  theatre  ;  and  in  that 
house  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  possess  a  charming 
neighbor  whose  company  has  always  been  highly  use- 
ful and  agreeable  to  me.  This  was  Madame  Ricco- 
boni,  who,  having  renounced  the  theatre,  delighted 
Paris  with  her  novels,  which  for  purity  of  style,  deli- 
cacy of  images,  truth  of  passion,  and  the  art  of  inter- 
esting and  amusing  her  readers  at  the  same  time,  raised 
her  to  a  level  with  whatever  was  most  valuable  in 
French  literature.  I  applied  to  Madame  Eiccoboni 
to  give  me  some  preliminary  account  of  my  Italian 
actors.  She  knew  them  thoroughly,  and  favored  me 
with  a  description  which  I  afterwards  discovered  to 
be  perfectly  correct  and  worthy  of  her  candor  and 
discretion. 

On  the  comic-opera  days  I  observed  an  astonishing 
crowd  of  people,  and  on  other  days  the  house  almost 


où2  MEMOIRS   OF 

empty.  This,  however,  did  not  alarm  me.  My  dear 
countrymen  only  gave  well-known  pieces,  and  outlines 
of  an  indifferent  description,  such  as  I  had  reformed  in 
Italy.  "I  shall  give,"  said  I  to  myself,  "character, 
sentiment,  plot,  management,  and  style."  I  commu- 
nicated my  ideas  to  my  comedians.  Some  of  them 
encouraged  me  to  follow  my  plan,  and  others  asked 
only  for  farces.  The  first  were  lovers  who  were  de- 
sirous of  written  pieces  ;  the  second,  comic  actors  who, 
unaccustomed  to  learn  anything  by  heart,  were  am- 
bitious of  shining  without  taking  the  pains  of  studying. 
I  proposed  to  wait  a  little  before  commencing  my  task. 
I  demanded  four  months'  time  to  examine  the  public 
taste,  to  ascertain  the  mode  of  pleasing  Paris  ;  and 
during  that  time  I  did  nothing  but  run  about,  pry  into 
everything,  and  enjoy  myself. 

Paris  is  a  world  of  itself:  everything  there  is  on  a 
large  scale,  the  good  and  bad  both  in  abundance. 
Whether  you  go  to  theatres,  promenades,  or  places  of 
pleasure,  you  find  every  corner  full.  Even  the  churches 
are  crowded.  In  a  town  of  eight  hundred  thousand 
souls  there  must  necessarily  be  more  of  both  good  and 
bad  people  than  anywhere  else  ;  and  it  rests  with  our- 
selves to  make  our  choice.  The  debauchee  will  find  it 
easy  to  gratify  his  passions,  and  the  virtuous  man  will 
meet  with  encouragement  in  the  exercise  of  his  virtues. 
I  was  neither  so  fortunate  as  to  rank  with  the  latter, 
nor  so  wretched  as  to  give  myself  up  to  irregularity. 
I  continued  to  live  at  Paris  in  my  usual  manner,  fond 
of  decent  pleasures,  and  esteeming  worthy  and  honor- 
able men.  Every  day  I  felt  myself  more  and  more 
confounded  in  the  ranks,  the  classes,  the  manners  of 
living,  and  the  different  modes  of  thinking.  I  no 
longer  knew  what  I  was,  what  I  wished  for,  or  what  I 


CARLO   GOLDONI.  353 

was  becoming.  I  was  quite  absorbed  in  the  vortex.  I 
saw  the  necessity  of  returning  to  myself,  but  I  could 
find  no  means  of  doing  so,  or  rather,  I  did  not  attempt 
it.  Fortunately  for  me,  the  court  went  to  Fontaine- 
bleau, whither  the  different  actors  were  obliged  to 
repair.  I  followed  them  with  my  little  family,  and  I 
found,  in  this  delightful  abode,  the  repose  and  tran- 
quillity which  I  had  sacrificed  to  the  amusement  of  the 
capital.  I  saw  every  day  the  royal  family,  the  princes 
of  the  blood,  the  grandees  of  the  kingdom,  the  French 
and  foreign  ministers,  all  assembled  at  the  castle,  and 
was  present  at  the  royal  dinners  ;  they  followed  the  court 
to  mass,  to  the  theatre,  to  hunting-parties,  without 
embarrassment,  constraint,  or  confusion. 

In  the  course  of  this  visit  the  Italians  gave  u  Harle- 
quin's Child  Lost  and  Found."  This  piece,  which  was 
very  successful  at  Paris,  did  not  meet  with  the  like  suc- 
cess at  Fontainebleau.  It  was  an  outline  ;  the  comedi- 
ans thought  proper  to  incorporate  some  of  the  jokes  of 
the  "  Coca  Imaginaire,'7  which  displeased  the  court, 
and  ruined  the  piece.  This  is  the  great  inconvenience 
of  comedies  of  this  description.  The  actor  who  plays 
from  his  own  head  speaks  sometimes  at  random,  spoils 
a  scene,  and  damns  a  piece.  I  was  not  attached  to 
this  work  ;  on  the  contrary,  I  have  said  enough  in  the 
first  part  of  these  Memoirs,  to  prove  in  how  little 
estimation  I  held  it  ;  but  still  I  was  sorry  to  see  the 
first  piece  of  mine  ever  given  at  court  unsuccessful. 
This  troublesome  event  proved  still  more  strongly 
the  necessity  of  giving  pieces  fully  written.  I  returned 
to  Paris  with  a  firm  and  determined  mind  ;  but  I  had 
not  to  do  with  my  comedians  of  Italy  ;  I  was  no 
longer  the  master  at  Paris,  as  1  had  been  in  my  own 
country. 


354  MEMOIRS   OF 


II. 

On  returning  to  Paris  I  looked  with  another  eye  on 
that  immense  city,  its  population,  its  amusements,  and 
its  seductions.  I  had  had  time  for  reflection,  and  to 
learn  that  the  confusion  in  which  everything  appeared 
at  first  to  me  proceeded  neither  from  the  nature  nor 
manners  of  the  people,  but  from  the  curiosity  and  im- 
patience to  which  my  giddiness  was  attributable.  I 
was  obliged  frankly  to  own  that  it  is  impossible  to 
enjoy  Paris,  and  be  amused  in  it,  without  a  sacrifice 
of  either  time  or  tranquillity.  I  had  formed,  on  my  ar- 
rival, too  many  acquaintances  ;  I  proposed  to  preserve 
them,  but  to  enjoy  them  in  moderation:  and  I  des- 
tined my  mornings  to  labor  and  the  rest  of  the  day  to 
company.  I  took  apartments  at  the  Palais  Royal  ; 
my  study  looked  into  the  garden,  which  was  very  dif- 
ferent then  from  what  the  late  improvements  have 
made  it,  but  which  possessed  peculiar  beauties  which 
some  people  still  regret.  Notwithstanding  my  occu- 
pation, I  could  not  avoid  bestowing  a  look  every  now 
and  then  at  that  delightful  alley  which  was  animated 
every  hour  by  so  many  different  objects.  The  break- 
fasts at  the  Café  de  Foi  (the  Faith  Coffee-House)  were 
taken  under  my  window.  People  of  every  description 
resorted  there  to  repose  and  refresh  themselves.  I 
overlooked  also  the  famous  chestnut-tree,  called  the 
Tree  of  Cracow,  round  which  the  newsmongers  used 
to  flock  with  their  news,  and  to  trace  trendies,  camps, 
military  positions,  and  divide  Europe  as  their  fancy 
led  them,  with  their  canes  on  the  sand.  These  vol- 
untary abstractions  were  sometimes  useful  to  me. 
They  afforded  an  agreeable  repose  to  my  mind,  and  I 
returned  to  my  labor  with  more  vigor  and  more  gayety. 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  355 

I  was  now  preparing  for  my  début  ;  and  it  was 
incumbent  on  me  to  make  my  first  appearance  on  the 
French  sta.çfe  with  some  new  production  which  might 
correspond  with  the  opinion  of  me  previously  enter- 
tained by  the  public.  My  actors  were  still  divided  in 
opinion.  Some  persisted  in  their  preference  of  written 
pieces,  while  others  approved  of  outlines.  A  meeting 
was  called  on  my  account,  and  at  which  I  was  present. 
I  showed  them  the  indecency  of  introducing  an  author 
without  dialogue  ;  and  it  was  agreed  that  I  should 
begin  with  a  finished  piece.  I  was  now  satisfied  ;  but 
I  still  foresaw  that  the  actors,  who  had  lost  the  habit 
of  getting  their  characters  by  heart,  without  any  mal- 
ice or  improper  intention  on  their  part,  would  second 
my  views  very  imperfectly.  I  found  myself,  there- 
fore, under  the  necessity  of  confining  my  ideas,  and 
limiting  myself  to  a  subject  of  no  great  boldness  of 
conception,  that  I  might  not  hazard  a  work  which 
should  require  too  great  accuracy  in  the  execution, 
flattering  myself  with  the  idea  of  bringing  them  grad- 
ually to  the  reform  which  I  had  carried  into  effect  in 
Italy.  With  this  view,  I  composed  a  comedy  in  three 
acts,  entitled  "  Paternal  Love  ;  or,  The  Grateful  Wait- 
ing-Maid." It  had  only  four  representations.  I  wished 
to  take  my  departure  immediately  ;  but  how  could  I 
leave  Paris,  which  had  so  fascinated  me  ?  My  engage- 
ment was  for  two  years,  and  I  was  tempted  to  remain 
the  whole  of  the  period.  The  most  of  the  Italian 
actors  asked  only  for  outlines:  the  public  were  accus- 
tomed to  them,  the  court  suffered  them,  and  why 
should  I  have  refused  to  comply  with  the  established 
practice  ?  "  Well  then,"  said  I,  "  let  us  compose  out- 
lines, if  they  will  have  them  :  every  sacrifice  seems 
nothing,  every  pain  seems  supportable  for  the  pleas- 
ure of  remaining  two  years  in  Paris." 


356  MEMOIRS   OF 

It  cannot  bo  said,  however,  that  my  amusements 
prevented  me  from  discharging  my  duty.  In  the  space 
of  these  two  years  I  produced  twenty-four  pieces,  the 
titles  of  which,  and  their  fate,  are  to  be  found  in  the 
" Theatrical  Almanac"  (Almanach  des  Spectacles). 
Eight  of  these  pieces  were  successful,  and  they  cost 
me  more  labor  than  if  I  had  written  them  entirely 
out.  I  could  only  please  by  interesting  situations,  and 
a  comic  humor  artfully  prepared  and  secured  from 
the  caprices  of  the  actors.  I  was  more  successful  than 
I  could  have  expected  ;  but  whatever  was  the  success 
of  my  pieces,  I  seldom  went  to  see  them.  I  preferred 
good  comedy,  and  frequented  the  French  theatre  for 
the  sake  of  amusement  and  instruction.  I  had  a  free 
admission  to  the  theatre  :  an  honor  conferred  on  me  on 
my  arrival  in  Paris.  This  was  the  more  flattering  for 
me,  as  nobody  could  then  have  foreseen  that  I  would 
one  day  be  enrolled  in  the  catalogue  of  their  authors. 
I  found  this  national  spectacle  equally  well  supplied 
with  tragic  and  comic  actors.  The  Parisians  spoke 
with  enthusiasm  of  their  departed  actors  of  celebrity. 
It  was  said  that  Nature  had  destroyed  the  moulds  in 
which  she  cast  these  great  men  ;  but  iu  this  they  were 
mistaken.  Nature  produces  the  mould,  the  model,  and 
the  original  at  the  same  time,  and  renews  them  at 
pleasure.  This  is  the  way  in  all  ages  :  we  always 
regret  the  past,  and  complain  of  the  present,  —  such  is 
human  nature. 

The  first  time  I  went  to  the  French  theatre  "  The 
Misanthrope"  was  acted,  and  the  part  of  Alceste  was 
performed  by  M.  Grandval.  This  very  able  and  very 
popular  and  esteemed  actor,  having  served  out  his  time, 
had  retired  on  a  pension.  After  a  few  years,  he  was 
seized  with  a  desire  of  making  his  appearance  again  on 


CARLO   GOLDOXL  35/ 

the  stage,  and  this  was  the  «lay  when  thai  event  took 
place.  He  was  excessively  applauded  at  his  first  en- 
trance; and  it  was  easy  to  Bee  the  estimation  in  which 
he  was  held  by  the  public.  But  at  a  certain  age  "  spiri- 
tus  promptus  est,  caro  autem  infirma"  ;  and  this  is  the 
reason  why  I  did  uot  mention  him  before.  Formypart, 
I  thought  him  excellent,  and  I  preferred  him  to  a  num- 
ber of  others  on  account  of  his  excellent  voice;  my  ear 
was  not  yet  familiarized  with  the  French  language;  I 
lost  a  great  deal  in  company,  and  still  more  at  the  the- 
atre. Fortunately,  I  was  acquainted  with  "The  Misan- 
thrope." It  was  the  piece  I  esteemed  the  most  in  the 
works  of  Molière,  a  piece  of  unequalled  perfection, and 
which,  independently  of  the  regularity  of  the  plot  and 
the  beauties  of  the  composition,  possesses  the  merit  of 
invention  and  novelty  of  character.  The  comic  authors, 
ancient  and  modern,  before  his  time,  brought  the  vices 
and  detects  of  humanity,  in  general,  on  the  stage; 
Molière  was  the  first  to  ridicule  the  manners  of  his  own 
a<re  and  country.  I  saw  with  infinite  pleasure  the  rep- 
resentation at  Paris  of  this  comedy,  which  I  had  so 
often  read  and  admired  in  the  closet.  I  did  uot  under- 
stand all  that  the  comedians  uttered,  and  especially 
those  who  displayed  a  volubility  which,  however  much 
applauded,  was  very  painful  to  me;  but  I  understood 
enough  to  admire  the  precision,  the  dignity,  and  the 
spirited  action  of  those  incomparable  actors.  "Ah!" 
said  I  then  to  myself,  "if  I  could  only  see  one  of  my 
pieces  acted  by  such  performers;  the  best  of  my  pieces 
is  not  equal  to  the  worst  of  Molière;  but  the  zeal  and 
activity  of  the  French  actors  would  do  more  for  it  than 
I  could  expect  from  the  Italians.11  This  is  the  school 
of  declamation  :  there  is  nothing  forced  in  the  action  or 
expression;  feet,  arms,  and  eyes,  and  mute  scenes;  all 


MEMOIRS    OF 

9  St  '  Si  -       Drooled  by  art  under  the 

itun  .    [leftta  /.he  enchanted, 

.sly  for  two  things,  either  to  he  able  to 
oom]    se]        si  tors,  or  1    ne  my  country- 

men capable  of  imitating  them.     Which  would  be  the 
most  difficult  1  T....-  atom  oould  determine 

this  difficulty. 

In  :   i  d  ean  time  I  was  assiduous  in  my  attendance 
at  the  French  theati  _  :  be- 

fore. "The  Father  of  a  Family.'"  by  If.  Diderot  :  a  new 
and  successful  comedy.     1         s  g     t  rally  said  at  Paris 
that  this  was  an  imitation  of  the  piece  composed  by  me 
under  the  same  title,  which  was  printed  in  my  works. 
..t  to  the  thear. -.  bo  g       \  but  1  oould  perceive  no 
my  play.     The  public  were  unjust  when 
they  accused  this  poet  and  philosopher  of  plagiarism, 
is  sus      km  was  infused  into  them  by  a  criticism 
hit:.'.   u Literary Y<  .:"    Ànnéf   littéraire).     Diderot 
produced  some      his  benne  ■  entitled  "  The 

N ..-   rai  S  d  ".   ...  F.  in  speaking  of  it  in  bis  peri- 

stated  that  there  was  a  great  resemblance 
the  French  H  rhe  True  Friend n  of 

■  JdonL     Frerou  contrasted  the  French  and  Italian 
scenes,  and  Iv        -  tived  from  the  same 

En  concluding  this  article  the  journalist  ob- 
..:  the  author  o{  ~  The  Natural  Son"  promised 
:    grw  "Al'./  F  that  Guldom  bad  also 

q  a  play  with  that  title:  and  that  it  would  be  seen 
hance  tum  out  the  same.     M. 
1 1 .  .  -  far  from  Wing  under  th  SE  :y  of  cross- 

A'.ps  for  comic  subjects  to  relieve  his  mind  with 
s  -  upations.    Three  years  afterwards 

hega  ..  F   ...;."  which  had  no  re- 

gonist  was  a 


CABLO  GOLDONL  ■>■>.) 

mild,  wise,  and  prudent  man,  whose  character  and  con- 
duct were  equally  instructive  and  exemplary.  Thai  of 
M.  Diderot,  on  the  other  hand,  was  a  harsh  and  severe 
father,  who  pardoned  nothing,  and  gave  his  malediction 
to  his  son.  He  was  one  of  those  wretched  beings  who 
exist  in  nature,  but  whom  I  should  never  have  dared  to 
bring  on  the  Btage.  I  did  M.  Diderot  justice:  I  en- 
deavored to  undeceive  those  who  supposed  his  "  Father 
of  a  Family"  to  be  taken  from  mine;  but  I  said  noth- 
ing respecting  his  "  Natural  Son."  The  author  was 
displeased  with  Freron  and  me;  he  wished  to  give  vent 
to  his  rage,  and  to  let  it  tall  on  one  or  other  of  as. 
The  preference  was  given  to  me.  He  printed  a  "  Dis- 
course "ii  Dramatic  Poetry fn  in  which  he  treated  me 
somewhat  harshly.  "Charles  Groldoni,"  he  said,  "  bas 
written  in  Italian  a  comedy,  or  rather  a  farce,  in  three 
acts."  In  another  place  In-  said,  u  (  iharles  I  roldoni  has 
composed  some  sixty  tarées."  It  was  easy  to  see  thai 
this  light  way  of  treating  me  and  my  works  was  ex- 
pressive of  the  consideration  in  which  he  held  them, 
and  that  he  called  me  Charles  Goldoni  as  we  name 
Pierre  le  Roux  in  Rose  and  Colas.  He  is  the  only 
French  writer  who  did  not  honor  me  with  his  Kindness. 
I  was  vexed  to  see  a  man  possessed  of  such  distin- 
guished merit  prejudiced  against  me.  I  did  what  I 
could  to  have  an  opportunity  of  meeting  him,  not  with 
the  view  of  complaining  of  his  treatment  of  me,  but  to 
convince  him  that.  I  did  not  deserve  his  Indignation.  I 
endeavored  to  procure  an  introduction  to  those  houses 
which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  frequenting;  but  I  was 
never  so  fortunate  as  to  tall  in  with  him.  At.  length, 
tired  of  waiting,  I  called  upon  him  at  lus  own  house. 
I  entend  one  day,  escorted  by  M.  Duni,  win;  was  one 
of  his  friends.     After  being  announced  and  received, 


360  MEMOIRS   OF 

the  Italian  musician  presented  me  as  a  literary  man  of 
his  country,  desirous  of  forming  an  acquaintance  with 
those  who  were  at  the  head  of  French  literature.  M. 
Diderot  vainly  endeavored  to  conceal  the  embarrassment 
into  which  he  was  thrown  by  my  introducer.  He  could 
not,  however,  shrink  from  what  the  rules  of  politeness 
and  society  prescribed  in  such  a  case.  We  spoke  of 
different  matters,  and  at  last  the  conversation  fell  on 
dramatic  works.  Diderot  honestly  owned  to  me  that 
some  of  my  pieces  had  caused  him  a  deal  of  chagrin  ; 
I  courageously  answered  him  that  I  perceived  this. 
"  You  know,  sir,"  said  he,  "  what  it  is  for  a  man  to  be 
wounded  in  his  most  delicate  part."  "  Yes,  sir,"  replied 
I,  "I  am  aware  of  that;  I  understand  you;  but  I  have 
nothing  to  reproach  myself  with."  "  Come,  come," 
said  M.  Duni,  interrupting  us,  "these  literary  bicker- 
ings ought  not  to  be  carried  any  further  ;  both  of  you 
ought  to  follow  Tasso's  advice  :  — 

'  Ogni  trista  memoria  omai  si  taccia  ; 
E  pongansi  in  obblio  le  andate  cose.' 

c  Let  no  disagreeable  remembrances  be  recalled  ;  and  let  every- 
thing past  be  bnried  in  oblivion.'  " 

M.  Diderot,  who  understood  Italian  sufficiently, 
seemed  to  subscribe  with  a  good  grace  to  the  advice 
of  the  Italian  poet  :  we  finished  our  conversation  with 
reciprocal  expressions  of  friendship,  and  both  M.  Duni 
and  myself  parted  from  him  very  well  satisfied  with 
what  had  taken  place. 

I  have  all  my  life  endeavored  to  make  up  to  those 
who  had  either  good  or  bad  reasons  for  avoiding  me  ; 
and  whenever  I  have  succeeded  in  gaining  the  esteem 
of  a  man  prepossessed  against  me,  I  have  considered 
that  day  as  a  day  of  triumph. 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  361 

On  parting  from  M.  Diderot,  I  also  took  leave  of  M. 
Duui,  and  repaired  to  a  literary  assembly,  of  which  I 
was  an  associate,  and  where  I  was  that  day  to  dine. 
This  society  was  not  numerous,  as  there  were  but  nine 
of  us:  M.  de  la  Place,  who  edited  the  "Mercure  de 
France"  ;  M.  de  la  Garde,  who  had  the  department  of 
theatrical  criticism  in  the  same  work  ;  M.  Saurin,  of  the 
French  Academy  ;  M.  Louis,  perpetual  secretary  of  the 
Royal  Chirurgical  Academy;  the  Abbé  de  la  Porte, 
author  of  several  literary  works  ;  M.  Crebillon,  the 
younger;  M.  Favart,  and  M.  Jouen.  The  last-men- 
tioned was  not  distinguished  for  his  talents,  but  famous 
for  the  delicacies  of  his  table.  Each  member  of  the 
society  received  in  turn  the  whole  of  the  others  in  his 
house,  and  gave  a  dinner* to  them  ;  aud  as  the  sittings 
were  held  on  Sundays,  they  were  called  Dominical 
meetings,  and  we  were  called  Dominicals.  We  had  no 
other  regulations  among  us  than  those  of  good  company  ; 
but  it  was  agreed  that  no  women  should  enter  our  meet- 
ings. We  were  aware  of  their  charms,  and  we  dreaded 
the  soft  enticements  of  the  fair  sex.  Our  Dominical 
meeting  was  held  one  day  at  the  hotel  of  the  Marchion- 
ess de  Pompadour,  of  whom  M.  de  la  Garde  was  the 
secretary.  We  were  just  sitting  down  to  dinner,  when 
a  carriage  entered  the  court,  in  which  we  perceived  a 
female.     We  recognized  in  her  an  actress  of  the  opera, 

in  high  estimation  for  her  talents,  and  distinguished  foi- 
es "  o 

her  wit  and  amiable  behavior  in  company. 

Two  of  the  members  went  down  stairs  and  escorted 
her  up  to  us.  On  entering,  she  asked,  in  a  jocular 
manner,  to  be  permitted  to  dine  with  us.  Could  we 
refuse  her  a  plate  Ï  Each  of  us  would  have  given  up 
his  own,  and  I  should  not  have  been  the  last  to  do 
this.     This   lady  was   irresistibly    engaging.     In   the 


362  MEMOIRS   OF 

course  of  the  dinner  she  demanded  to  be  admitted  into 
the  society  :  and  she  arranged  her  peroration  in  so  now 
and  singular  a  manner  that  she  was  received  with 
acclamation.  During  the  dessert  we  looked  at  the 
clock  ;  it  was  half  past  four.'  Our  new  associate  did 
not  act  that  day,  Lut  she  was  desirous  of  going  to  the 
opera }  and  the  society  were  almost  all  disposed  to 
accompany  her.  The  only  one  who  displayed  no 
eagerness  to  go  was  myself. 

"  Ah,  M.  Italian,"  said  the  lady,  laughing,  "  you  arc 
not  fond  of  French  music  then  ?  "  "I  possess  no  great 
knowledge  of  it,"  said  I;  "I  have  never  been  at  the 
opera;  but  I  hear  a  deal  of  singing  wherever  I  go, 
and  all  the  airs  only  serve  to  disgust  me."  "  Let 
us  see,"  said  she,  "if  I  can  overcome  any  of  your 
prejudices  against  our  music."  She  immediately  began 
to  sing,  and  I  felt  myself  delighted  and  enchanted. 
What  a  charming  voice  !  It  was  not  powerful,  but 
just,  touching,  and  delightful.  I  was  in  ecstasy. 
"  Come,"  said  she,  "  embrace  me,  and  follow  me  to 
the  opera."  I  embraced  her,  and  went  to  the  opera 
accordingly.  I  was  at  length  present  at  this  enter- 
tainment, which  several  persons  could  have  wished 
me  to  see  before  everything  else,  and  which  I  should 
not,  perhaps,  have  seen  so  soon,  if  it  had  not  been  for 
this  circumstance.  The  actress  whom  we  had  received 
into  our  society  took  three  of  our  brethren  with  her 
into  her  box,  and  I  seated  myself  with  two  others  in 
the  amphitheatre.  This  part,  which  takes  up  a  part 
of  the  theatres  in  France,  is  in  front  of  the  stage,  in 
the  form  of  a  semicircle,  and  the  seats,  which  are  well 
furnished  and  commodious,  are  raised  in  gradations 
above  one  another.  This  is  the  best  place  in  the  house 
for  seeing  and  hearing.     I  was  contented  with  my  situ- 


CARLO    GOLDONI.  363 

ation,  and  I  pitied  the  audience  in  the  pit,  who  were 
on  their  feet,  and  closely  crowded,  and  who  were  not 
to  blame  for  their  impatience.  The  orchestra  began, 
and  I  found  the  harmony  of  the  instruments  of  a  su- 
perior kind,  and  very  accurate  in  point  of  execution. 
But  the  overture  appeared  to  me  cold  and  languid:  I 
was  sure  it  was  not  Kameau's;  for  I  had  heard  his 
overtures  and  ballet  airs  in  Italy.  The  action  com- 
menced ;  and,  notwithstanding  my  favorable  situation, 
I  could  not  hear  a  word.  However,  I  patiently  waited 
for  the  airs,  in  the  expectation  that  I  should  at  least 
be  amused  with  the  music.  The  dancers  made  their 
appearance,  and  I  imagined  the  act  finished,  but  heard 
not  a  single  air.  I  spoke  of  this  to  my  neighbor,  who 
laughed  at  me,  and  assured  me  that  we  had  had  six  in 
the  different  scenes  which  I  had  heard.  "What!" 
said  I,  "  I  am  not  deaf;  the  instruments  never  ceased 
accompanying  the  voices,  sometimes  more  loudly,  and 
sometimes  more  slowly  than  usual,  but  I  took  the  whole 
for  recitative."  "  Look,  look,  there  is  Vestris,"  said 
he,  "the  most  elegant,  able,  and  accomplished  dancer 
in  Europe."  I  saw  in  reality,  in  a  country-dance,  this 
shepherd  of  the  Arno  triumphing  over  the  shepherds 
of  the  Seine:  but  two  minutes  afterwards  three  charac- 
ters sang  all  at  the  same  time.  This  was  a  trio,  which 
I  confounded,  perhaps,  in  the  same  manner  with  the 
recitative.     The  first  act  then  closed. 

As  nothing  takes  place  between  the  acts  of  the 
French  opera,  they  soon  began  the  second  act.  I 
heard  the  same  music,  and  felt  the  same  weariness. 
I  gave  up  altogether  the  drama  and  its  accompani- 
ments, and  began  to  examine  the  entertainment  taken 
as  a  whole,  which  I  thought  surprising.  The  princi- 
pal male  and  female  dancers  had  arrived  at  an  astonish- 


364  MEMOIRS   OF 

ing  pitch  of  perfection,  and  their  suite  was  very  numerous 
and  very  elegant.  The  music  of  the  choruses  appeared 
to  me  more  agreeable  than  that  of  the  drama.  I  recog- 
nized the  psalms  of  Corelli,  Biffi,  and  Clari.  The 
decorations  were  superb,  the  machines  well  contrived, 
and  admirably  executed.  The  dresses  were  very  rich, 
and  the  stage  was  always  well  filled  with  people. 
Everything  was  beautiful,  grand,  and  magnificent,  ex- 
cept the  music.  At  the  end  of  the  drama  there  was  a 
sort  of  chacone  sung  by  an  actress  who  did  not  appear 
among  the  characters  of  the  drama,  and  seconded  by 
the  music  of  the  choruses  and  by  dancing.  This 
agreeable  surprise  might  have  enlivened  the  piece  ;  but 
it  was  a  hymn  rather  than  an  air.  When  the  curtain 
fell,  I  was  asked  by  all  my  acquaintances  how  I  liked 
the  opera.  My  answer  flew  from  my  lips  like  light- 
ning, "  It  is  a  paradise  for  the  eyes,  and  a  hell  for  the 
ears."'  This  insolent  and  inconsiderate  reply  made 
some  laugh,  and  others  turn  up  their  noses.  Two 
gentlemen  belonging  to  the  king's  chapel  thought  it 
excellent.  The  author  of  the  music  was  not  for  from 
me,  and  perhaps  overheard  what  I  said.  I  was  very 
much  concerned,  for  he  was  a  worthy  man.  Requiescat 
in  pace!  I  was  present  some  days  afterwards  at  the 
representation  of  u  Castor  and  Pollux  "  ;  and  the  drama, 
which  was  perfectly  well  written,  and  acted  with  supe- 
rior decorations,  reconciled  me  a  little  with  the  French 
opera.  I  soon  perceived  the  difference  between  the 
music  of  Eameau  and  that  which  had  given  me  so  much 
displeasure.  I  was  very  intimate  with  that  celebrated 
composer,  for  whose  talents  and  science  I  had  the 
highest  consideration  ;  but  we  must  be  sincere.  Ea- 
meau distinguished  himself,  and  produced  a  great  revo- 
lution in  France  in  instrumental  music  ;  but  he  made 
no  essential  changes  in  vocal  music. 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  365 

It  was  supposed  that  the  French  language  was  not 
adapted  to  the  new  taste  which  it  was  wished  to  intro- 
duce in  singing.  This  was  believed  by  Jean  Jacques 
Rousseau,  as  well  as  others  ;  and  he  was  astonished 
to  see  this  error  refuted  in  the  music  of  the  Chevalier 
Gluck.  But  this  learned  German  musician  merely 
paved  the  way  for  the  introduction  of  Italian  music, 
and  it  was  reserved  for  M.  Piccini  and  M.  Sacchini  to 
complete  the  reform  which  the  French  seem  to  enjoy 
more  and  more  every  day.  I  have  lengthened  out  this 
digression  without  perceiving  what  I  was  about.  I 
am  not  a  musician,  but  I  am  fond  of  impassioned 
music;  if  an  air  affect  or  amuse  me,  I  listen  to  it  with 
delight,  and  never  examine  whether  it  is  French  or 
Italian.     There  is  but  one  music  in  my  opinion. 


III. 

I  became  every  day  more  and  more  acquainted  with 
the  advantages  of  Paris,  and  every  day  my  attachment 
to  it  increased.  The  two  years  of  my  engagement, 
however,  were  drawing  to  a  close,  and  I  considered  the 
necessity  of  again  changing  my  country  as  indispen- 
sable. The  Portuguese  ambassador  had  employed  me 
for  his  court,  and  made  me  a  present  of  a  thousand 
crowns  for  a  small  work  which  had  been  successful  at 
Lisbon.  I  had  every  reason  for  supposing  that  I  should 
not  be  refused  in  a  country  where  theatrical  entertain- 
ments were  then  in  vogue,  and  where  talents  were  re- 
warded. The  Chevalier  Tiepolo,  the  Venetian  ambas- 
sador, on  the  other  hand,  perpetually  urged  me  to  return 
to  my  country,  where  I  was  beloved,  and  where  my 
return  was  warmly  desired.  His  embassy  was  at  an 
end,  and  he  would  have  taken  me  along  with  him,  and 


366  MEMOIRS    OF 

maintained  and  protected  me  ;  but  he  was  dangerously 
ill  :  he  took  his  leave  of  the  court,  sinking  under  the 
pressure  of  his  illness,  and  went  to  Geneva  to  consult 
the  famous  Tronchin,  where  he  finished  his  days,  to 
the  great  regret  of  the  republic  and  the  French  court, 
by  both  of  whom  he  was  held  in  the  highest  estimation. 
During  this  state  of  indecision  a  lucky  star  flew  to 
my  assistance.  I  became  acquainted  with  Mademoiselle 
Sylvestre,  reader  to  the  late  dauphiness,  mother  of 
Louis  XVI.  This  lady,  the  daughter  of  the  principal 
painter  of  Augustus,  King  of  Poland  and  Elector  of 
Saxony,  had  been  employed  at  Dresden  in  the  educa- 
tion of  her  august  mistress,  and  enjoyed  in  France  all 
the  credit  to  which  her  talents  and  good  conduct  so 
properly  entitled  her.  Mademoiselle  Sylvestre,  who 
knew  Italian  thoroughly,  was  well  acquainted  with  my 
works,  and  being  of  a  kind  and  obliging  disposition, 
took  an  interest  in  my  welfare.  I  had  spoken  to  her 
of  my  attachment  to  Paris,  and  the  regret  with  which 
I  should  abandon  it  :  and  she  engaged  to  mention  me 
at  court,  where  my  name  was  not  unknown.  Eight 
days  afterwards  she  sent  for  me  to  Versailles,  whither 
I  repaired  without  delay.  I  alighted  at  the  king's 
small  stables  {petites  écuries),  where  Mademoiselle 
Sylvestre  lived  in  family  with  her  relations,  who  were 
all  in  the  service  of  the  royal  family.  After  a  most 
gracious,  kind,  and  hearty  reception,  our  first  conver- 
sation terminated  in  the  f<  blowing  result  ;  and  in  tins 
way  an  affair  of  great  importance  for  me  was  begun 
and  ended  on  this  fortunate  day.  The  dauphiuess  was 
acquainted  with  me  ;  she  had  seen  my  pieces  repre- 
sented at  Dresden  ;  she  caused  them  to  be  read  to  her, 
and  her  reader  did  not  fail  t<>  embellish  them,  and  to 
throw  in  now  and  then  something  or  other  in  favor  of 


CARLO   GOLDONL  367 

the  author.  She  succeeded  so  well  with  her  mistress, 
that  this  princess  promised  to  honor  me  with  her  pro- 
tection, and  to  attach  me  to  the  court. 

The  dauphiness  could  have  wished  to  employ  me  in 
the  instruction  of  her  children,  bat  they  were  too  young 
to  attempt  a  f<  ifeign  language.  The  daughters  of  Louis 
XV.  had  been  taught  the  principles  of  the  Italian  lan- 
guage by  M.  Hardiun,  the  king's  librarian  at  Versailles. 
They  had  a  relish  fur  Italian  literature,  and  the  dau- 
phiness,  availing  herself  of  this  fortunate  circumstance, 
sent  me  to  the  Duchess  of  Narbonne,  whom  she  had 
prepossessed  in  my  favor,  that  I  might  be  introduced 
to  Madame  Adelaide  of  France.  The  Duchess  of  Nar- 
bonne then  attended  on  lier,  and  is  at  present  a  lady 
of  honor.  I  had  the  honor  of  being  acquainted  with 
the  Duchess  of  Narbonne  at  the  court  of  Parma.  She 
received  me  kindly,  and  presented  me  the  same  day  to 
her  august  mistress  ;  and  I  was  instantly  received  into 
the  service  of  the  French  princesses.  Xo  salary  was 
mentioned,  and  I  asked  none.  I  was  proud  of  so  hon- 
orable an  employment,  and  sure  of  the  kindness  of  my 
august  scholars.  I  took  my  departure,  therefore,  very 
well  pleased  with  what  had  taken  place,  and  communi- 
cated the  adventure  to  my  wife,  who  knew  the  value 
of  it  as  well  as  myself.  I  bade  adieu  to  the  Italian 
theatre,  which  was  not,  perhaps,  sorry  at  getting  rid 
of  me,  and  I  received  with  sincere  pleasure  the  com- 
pliments of  all  those  who  took  an  interest  in  my  welfare. 

The  Chevalier  Gradenigo,  who  succeeded  M.  Tiepolo 
as  Venetian  ambassador,  knew  better  than  any  other 
person  the  consequence  to  which  such  a  fortunate  event 
might  lead.  This  illustrious  patrician  was  the  intimate 
friend  of  the  Duke  de  Chuiseul  :  he  recommended  me 
to  that  minister,  who  was  at  the  head  of  two  of  the 


368  MEMOIRS    OF 

most  considerable  departments,  foreign  affairs  and  war, 
and  who  enjoyed,  with  great  justice,  the  highest  credit 
at  the  court  of  France,  and  the  utmost  consideration 
throughout  the  rest  of  Europe.  With  such  an  honor- 
able employment  and  such  powerful  protection,  I 
ought  to  have  made  a  brilliant  fortune  in  France.  If 
I  have  only  acquired  a  very  moderate  fortune,  it  has 
been  my  own  fault.  I  was  at  court,  but  I  was  not  a 
courtier. 

Madame  Adelaide  was  the  first  who  took  lessons  in 
the  Italian  language.  I  had  not  yet  lodgings  at  Ver- 
sailles ;  she  sent  a  post-chaise  for  me  ;  and  it  was  in 
one  of  those  vehicles  that  I  nearly  lost  my  sight.  I 
was  foolish  enough  to  read  in  the  chaise  ;  the  book  I 
was  then  engaged  with  was  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau's 
letters  from  the  Mountain,  and  I  felt  considerably  in- 
terested in  it.  One  day  I  lost  all  at  once  the  use  c  f  my 
eyes  ;  the  book  fell  out  of  my  hands,  and  I  could  not 
even  see  to  pick  it  up.  I  gave  myself  up  for  lost.  I 
still  possessed,  however,  enough  of  the  visual  faculty 
to  enable  me  to  distinguish  the  light;  I  got  out  of  my 
chaise,  and  proceeded  to  the  apartments  of  Madame 
Adelaide,  which  I  entered  quite  disconcerted  and  in 
the  utmost  agitation.  The  princess  perceived  my  dis- 
tress, and  was  kind  enough  to  inquire  the  cause  of  it. 
I  durst  not  tell  her  of  my  situation  ;  I  hoped  I  should 
be  able  to  discharge  my  duty  in  some  way  or  other.  I 
found  my  seat  in  its  place,  and  I  seated  myself  as  usual. 
Having  discovered  the  book  I  was  to  read,  I  opened  it, 
when,  0  heavens  !  everything  appeared  white  to  me. 
I  was  thus  at  last  forced  to  own  my  misfortune.  It  is 
impossible  to  paint  the  goodness,  sensibility,  and  com- 
passion of  this  great  princess.  She  sent  to  her  chamber 
for  eye-water  ;  she  allowed  ine  to  bathe  my  eyes  :  she 


CARLO  GOLDONL  369 

drew  the  curtains  in  such  a  way  that  a  sufficiency 
of  light  to  distinguish  different  objects  was  all  that 
remained.  My  sight  gradually  returned  :  I  saw  but 
little,  though  I  was  enabled  to  see  sufficiently  for  my 
puqjose  at  that  time.  It  was  not  the  eye-water  which 
performed  the  miracle,  but  the  kindness  of  the  princ 
which  imparted  strength  to  my  mind  and  penses. 

I  resumed  the  book,  which  I  found  myself  enabled 
to  read  ;  but  Madame  Adelaide  would  not  allow  me  t<» 
do  so.  She  gave  me  leave  to  depart,  and  recommended 
me  to  her  physician.  In  a  few  days  I  recovered  the 
complete  use  of  my  right  eye,  but  I  have  lost  the  other 
forever.  I  am  thus  blind  of  one  eye,  a  slight  incon- 
venience which  does  not  give  me  much  uneasiness  . 
but  there  are  cases  in-which  it  heightens  my  defects 
and  adds  to  my  awkwardness.  It  is  at  the  gaming- 
table that  I  am  most  troublesome  to  others.  The 
candle  must  be  placed  on  my  right  side,  and  if  there 
happen  to  be  a  lady  in  company  in  the  same  predica- 
ment with  myself,  she  dares  not  own  it,  but  she  con- 
siders my  preteusi  >n  ridiculous.  At  brelan,  where  the 
candles  are  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  table,  I  can  see 
nothing.  At  whist  or  tresset,  where  partners  are 
changed,  I  must  carry  the  candle  with  me.  Inde- 
pendently of  my  defective  sight,  I  possess  other  sin- 
gularities ;  I  dread  heat  in  winter,  and  cold  in  summer 
—  I  must  have  screens  to  secure  me  from  the  fire,  and 
an  open  window  in  the  evening  gives  me  a  cold  during 
the  most  violent  heats.  I  know  not  how  the  ladies 
whom  I  have  the  honor  of  knowing  can  suffer  me,  and 
allow  me  to  draw  a  card,  to  be  of  their  party.  It  is 
because  they  are  good  and  kind,  and  because  I  play 
at  all  games  ;  refuse  no  match  ;  am  not  frightened  at 
deep  play,  and  not  less  amused  when  I  play  for  small 


370  MEMOIRS    OF 

sums  :  because  I  am  not  a  bad  player,  and,  notwith- 
standing my  defects,  am  one  of  the  best-natured  men 
in  company. 

After  six  months'  service,  I  got  lodgings  in  the  castle 
of  Versailles.  I  received  the  apartments  destined  for 
the  accoucheur  of  the  dauphiness.  whom  that  princess 
could  dispense  with,  on  account  of  the  ill-health  of  the 
dauphin.  In  the  month  of  May.  of  the  same  year, 
1765,  the  court  made  a  short  excursion  to  Marly.  I 
accompanied  the  princesses,  and  enjoyed  the  delightful 
situation  of  that  place.  After  seeing  the  garden  of  the 
Tuileries  and  the  park  of  Versailles.  I  thought  that 
nothing  would  surprise  me  :  but  the  position  and  beau- 
ties of  the  garden  of  Marly  made  such  an  impression 
on  me,  that  I  should  have  given  the  preference  to  that 
enchanting  spot,  if  the  remembrance  of  the  richness 
and  extent  of  the  others  had  not  regulated  my  com- 
parisons. Those  who  have  seen  this  castle,  its  gar- 
den, its  immense  parterre,  its  compartments,  its  designs, 
its  jets-d'eau,  and  its  cascades,  will  do  me  justice; 
and  the  accurate  descriptions  which  we  have  of  it  con- 
firm the  judgment  of  it  formed  by  me. 

What  adds  to  the  pleasures  and  delights  of  this  rural 
abode  is  the  gaming-house.  Every  person  who  is 
known  may  enter:  and  there  are  corners  for  those  who 
cannot,  or  are  not  disposed  to  penetrate  into  the  circle. 
I  preferred  one  of  these  by-corners,  to  see  for  the  first 
time  the  arrival  of  the  king  and  his  attendants.  It 
was  a  striking  sight.  The  king  entered,  accompanied 
by  the  queen,  the  princes,  princesses,  and  the  whole 
court,  and  took  his  seat  at  the  great  table,  surrounded 
by  all  that  was  distinguished  in  the  kingdom.  The 
queen  made  a  party  that  day  at  cavagnol.  The  dau- 
phiness   and   princesses    had  different    gaming-tables. 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  371 

They  discovered  me  in  my  corner,  and  requested  me  to 
cspine  forward,  and  I  saw  myself  confounded  amid  the 
crowd  of  nobles,  ministers,  and  magistrates.  They 
played  lansquenet  at  the  king's  table,  where  every  one 
by  turns  held  the  hand.  It  was  said  that  Louis  XV. 
was  fortunate  at  play  :  I  wait d  till  he  held  the  bank  ; 
I  ventured  six  louis-d'ors  on  my  account  in  favor  of  the 
bank,  and  I  gained.  The  king  went  out,  and  the  royal 
family  foil-  >wed  him.  The  rest  of  the  company  remained 
and  played  in  any  way  and  f<  w  any  sum  they  ch<  tse.  One 
lady  remained  a  day  and  two  nights  at  the  same  table, 
ordering  chocolate  and  biscuits,  that  she  might  nourish 
at  the  same  time  her  body  and  her  passion. 

Although  pleasure  was  the  primary  object  of  this 
agreeable  excursion,  I  had  my  regular  hours  for  labor- 
ing with  the  princesses.  One  day  I  was  met  by  one  i  f 
my  august  scholars  in  the  passage,  as  she  was  going 
to  dinner.  She  looked  at  me  and  said,  "By  and  by" 
(à  tantôt).  Tantosto,  in  Italian,  means  "  immedi- 
ately "  ;  I  thought  the  princess  meant  to  take  her  les- 
son on  rising  from  table  :  I  remained  in  waiting  with 
as  much  patience  as  my  appetite  would  permit.  At 
length  the  principal  lady  in  waiting  made  me  enter  at 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  On  opening  her  book, 
the  princess  put  a  question  to  me,  which  she  was  in 
the  daily  habit  of  doing,  where  I  had  dined  that  day. 
"  Nowhere,  madam,"  said  I.  "What!  you  have  not 
dined  !  "  "  Xo,  madam."  "  Are  you  unwell  ?"  "  No, 
madam."  "  Why  have  you  not  dined,  then?  "  "  Be- 
cause, madam,  you  did  me  the  honor  of  saying  à  tantôt 
to  me."  "  Does  not  this  expression,  when  used  at  two 
o'clock,  mean  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  !  " 
"  Perhaps  it  may,  madam  ;  but  this  term  in  Italian 
signifies  immediately."     The  princess  smiled,  shut  her 


372  MEMOIRS    OF 

book,  and  sent  me  to  dine.  There  are  both  French 
and  Italian  terms  which  bear  a  resemblance  to  one 
another,  and  yet  have  quite  a  different  meaning.  I 
still  fell  into  some  of  these  qui  pro  quos,  and  I  may 
say  that  the  little  French  I  know  was  acquired  by  me 
(luring-  the  three  years  I  was  employed  in  the  service 
of  the  princesses.  They  read  the  Italian  poets  and 
prose  writers  ;  I  stammered  out  a  bad  translation  into 
French  :  they  repeated  it  gracefully  and  elegantly,  and 
in  this  exercise  the  master  learned  more  than  the 
scholar. 

On  returning  to  Versailles,  the  health  of  the  dauphin 
seemed  to  be  on  the  recovery.  He  was  fond  of  music, 
and  the  dauphiness  took  care  to  provide  some  for  his 
amusement.  I  composed  an  Italian  cantata,  which  I 
got  set  to  music  by  an  Italian  composer,  and  I  pre- 
sented it  to  that  princess,  who,  in  accepting  it,  had  the 
goodness  to  invite  me  to  hear  it  executed  in  her  room 
after  supper. 

I  learned  on  this  occasion  a  piece  of  etiquette  of 
which  I  was  before  ignorant.  I  entered  the  apart- 
ments of  the  princess  at  ten  o'clock  at  night,  and  pre- 
sented myself  at  the  door  of  the  closet  of  the  nobility. 
The  doorkeeper  did  not  prevent  me  from  entering. 
The  dauphin  and  dauphiness  were  at  table,  and  I  took 
a  convenient  station  to  see  them  sup.  A  lady  in  wait- 
ing came  up  to  me,  and  asked  if  I  was  entitled  to  ad- 
mission in  the  evening.  "I  do  not  know,  madam," 
said  I,  "  the  difference  between  admission  by  day  and 
in  the  evening;  the  princess  herself  commanded  me  to 
repair  to  her  room  after  her  supper,  —  I  have  come  too 
soon,  perhaps  ;  I  did  not  know  the  etiquette."  "  Sir," 
replied  the  lady,  "  there  is  none  for  you.  you  may  re- 
main."    I  own  that  my  self-love  was  not  a  little  grati- 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  3/3 

fied  on  this  occasion.  I  remained.  When  the  prince 
and  princess  had  finished  supper,  I  was  called,  and  my 
cantata  was  performed.  The  dauphiness  played  the 
harpsichord,  Madame  Adelaide  accompanied  her  on  the 
violin,  and  Mademoiselle  Hardy  (afterwards  Madame 
de  la  Brasse)  sang.  The  music  gave  pleasure,  and 
compliments  were  paid  to  the  author  of  the  words, 
which  I  received  very  modestly.  On  my  preparing  to 
go  away,  the  dauphin  had  the  goodness  to  detain  me. 
He  sang  himself,  and  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  hear 
him.  But  what  did  he  sing  I  A  pathetic  air  from  an 
oratorio  called  ll  The  Pilgrim  at  the  Sepulchre." 

This  prince  was  declining  every  day,  but  he  was  pos- 
sessed of  fortitude;  and  the  desire  of  quieting  the  minds 
of  the  court  respecting  his  situation  made  him  conceal 
his  sufferings,  and  assume  a  cheerful  look  in  public. 

The  king  passed  six  weeks  regularly  every  summer 
at  Compiegne,  and  as  many  in  autumn  at  Fontaine- 
bleau. These  rural  excursions  were  called  the  great 
journeys,  because  all  the  departments  and  all  the 
offices  of  the  ministry  were  removed  there,  and  the 
foreign  ministers  also  accompanied  the  court. 

Both  took  place  this  year,  1765,  after  the  short  ex- 
cursion to  Marly,  and  the  journey  to  Compiegne  was 
brilliant  and  magnificent  in  the  highest  degree.  The 
Compiegne  journey  began  with  an  appearance  of  gay- 
ety,  but  it  terminated  with  a  circumstance  of  great 
distress.  The  dauphin1  s  health  grew  worse  and  worse 
every  day.  He  thought  exercise  would  do  him  good, 
but  the  fatigue  completely  exhausted  him.  I  had  lost 
one  protector,  and  I  saw  myself  on  the  point  of  losing 
another.  I  became  melancholy,  and  I  could  find  nothing 
in  the  situation  where  I  was  to  enliven  me.  The  forest 
of  Compiegne  is  superb;  but  it  seemed  to  me  too  much 


374  MEMOIRS   OF 

trimmed,  too  uniform,  and  too  remote  from  the  town. 
There  was  a  want  of  society,  hut  everybody  was 
gloomy  like  myself.  I  began  even  to  he  alarmed  for 
my  health.    My  melancholy  was  gaining  ground  on  me. 

IY. 

The  court  had  scarcely  returned  to  Versailles  before 
they  began  to  talk  of  the  journey  to  Fontainebleau. 
It  was  fixed  for  the  4th  of  October;  but  the  ill-health 
of  the  dauphin  rendered  it  a  matter  of  uncertainty. 
This  amiable  and  complaisant  prince  was  grieved  to 
think  that  the  king  should  be  deprived  of  any  of  his 
pleasures,  and  that  the  inhabitants  of  Fontainebleau 
should  lose  the  profits  which  they  were  in  the  habit 
of  deriving  from  the  presence  of  the  court  and  the  in- 
flux of  strangers.  Whenever  Fontainebleau  was  men- 
tioned, notwithstanding  his  illness,  he  endeavored  to 
assume  a  gayety.  and  to  appear  in  good  health.  But 
1  was  not  deceived  by  this,  and  there  were  numbers 
more  who  thought  as  I  did.  The  journey,  however, 
was  determined  on,  and  carried  into  effect  accordingly. 
It  would  be  unjust  and  unreasonable  to  suppose  that 
the  king  and  royal  family  were  less  interested  than 
others  in  the  health  and  tranquillity  of  this  prince,  in 
whom  their  happiness  was  centred;  but  it  is  natural 
that  those  who  are  most  concerned  about  the  preserva- 
tion of  any  object  should  not  see  the  whole  of  the  dan- 
ger, and  they  might  have  flattered  themselves  that  a 
change  of  air  and  amusement  might  contribute  to  the 
health  of  the  patient. 

They  set  out,  then,  for  this  castle  in  the  beginning 
of  October.  The  situation,  and  the  pleasures  with 
which  it  abounds,  rendered  this  journey  delightful  for 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  375 

some  days.  The  different  theatrical  amusements  at 
Paris  were  also  exhibited  by  turns,  and  the  authors 
brought  out  their  new  productions  there  in  preference. 
We  had  theatrical  entertainments  four  times  a  week, 
and  we  entered  by  means  of  tickets  of  admission  issued 
by  the  captain  of  the  guards  or  duty. 

In  the  midst  of  our  gayety,  our  pleasures  and 
amusements,  everything  changed  its  appearance  before 
our  visit  was  half  over.  The  dauphin  could  no  longer 
support  with  indifference  the  fire  which  was  inter- 
nally consuming  him  :  his  courage  became  useless,  his 
strength  abandoned  him  ;  he  was  unable  to  quit  his 
bed  ;  there  was  a  general  consternation  ;  his  disease 
made  a  most  alarming  progress,  and  all  the  resources 
of  the  faculty  were  exhausted.  They  then  had  re- 
course to  prayers,  and  the  Archbishop  of  Sens,  now  a 
cardinal,  went  every  day  in  procession,  followed  "by 
an  immense  crowd,  to  the  chapel  of  the  Virgin,  at  the 
extremity  of  the  town.  They  vowed  to  elevate  a  tem- 
ple there,  if  the  intercession  of  the  Mother  of  God 
restored  the  health  of  the  dying  prince  ;  hut  it  was 
written  in  the  decrees  of  Providence  that  he  should 
now  finish  his  career  ;  and  he  died  at  Fontainebleau 
towards  the  end  of  December. 

I  was  in  the  castle  at  this  fatal  moment.  The  loss 
was  great,  and  the  desolation  general.  A  few  minutes 
after  this  event  took  place,  I  heard  "  The  dauphin, 
gentlemen  ! n  called  out  throughout  the  whole  length 
of  the  apartments.  I  was  thunderstruck  ;  I  neither 
knew  what  I  was  nor  where  I  was.  This  was  occa- 
sioned by  the  Duke  de  Berry,  the  eldest  sou  of  the 
defunct,  who  had  now  become  the  presumptive  heir  of 
the  crown,  making  his  appearance,  bathed  in  tears,  for 
the  sake  of  consoling  the  afflicted  people.     This  visit, 


376  MEMOIRS    OF 

which  was  to  have  ended  in  the  middle  of  November, 
was  prolonged  to  the  end  of  the  year.  All  were  eager 
to  leave  the  place  ;  I  participated  in  the  general  feel- 
ing :  bat  I  gave  way  to  those  whose  service  was  more 
necessary,  and  set  out  the  last  of  all.  This  year  was 
exceedingly  inclement.  A  great  deal  of  snow  fell,  and 
the  roads  were  covered  with  ice.  The  horses  could 
not  keep  their  footing  :  and  I  took  two  days  and  one 
night  in  performing  a  journey  which  in  general  does 
not  occupy  more  than  seven  hours. 

On  arriving  at  Versailles.  I  was  instantly  visited  by 
a  servant  of  the  keeper  of  the  castle,  who,  in  the  name 
of  his  master,  demanded  the  key  of  my  apartments  from 
me.  On  the  dauphin's  death,  the  office  of  accoucheur 
to  the  dauphiness  became  necessarily  suppressed  :  that 
princess  had  no  longer  any  right  to  dispose  of  the 
apartments  :  I  could  not  therefore  enjoy  them,  and 
they  Mere  apparently  destined  for  some  person  of  more 
consequence  than  myself.  I  deemed  it  improper  to 
enter  into  any  conversation  on  the  subject  with  the 
man  who  delivered  the  message  to  me,  and  I  sent  him 
away  with  an  answer  that  I  was  in  want  of  rest.  1 
turned  the  subject  over  in  my  mind  during  the  night, 
and,  on  reflection.  I  thought,  in  the  present  distressing 
circumstances  of  the  court,  it  would  be  indecent  in 
me  to  prefer  complaints  or  to  demand  protection.  I 
therefore  took  lodgings  at  once  in  the  town,  and 
gave  up  the  key  of  my  apartments.  Italian  was  no 
longer  thought  of  by  the  princesses  :  however,  I  durst 
not  remove  from  Versailles:  my  finances  were  in  a 
wretched  state  :  I  had  received  an  order  for  a  hundred 
louis-d'ors  on  the  royal  treasury  :  but  this  was  the  only 
thins  I  had  ever  received.  I  was  in  want  of  every- 
thing, but  durst  demand  nothing. 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  377 

I  saw  my  august  scholars  from  time  to  time,  and 
they  still  looked  on  me  with  kindness,  but  I  no  longer 
labored  with  them.  I  knew  not  how  to  make  my 
situation  known  to  them,  and  the  princesses  were  too 
distressed  themselves  to  think  of  me.  My  Italian  rev- 
enues came  but  slowly  in  ;  my  friend  Sciugliaga  lent 
me  a  hundred  sequins,  and  I  waited  patiently  fur  a  time 
when  trouble  should  give  place  to  serenity. 

But  the  distress  was  not  yet  at  an  end  ;  one  misfor- 
tune succeeded  another.  The  dauphiness  fell  a  victim 
to  her  grief,  and  was  buried  in  the  same  grave  with  her 
husband.  The  death  of  the  King  of  Poland,  father  to 
the  Queen  of  France,  happened  some  time  afterwards, 
and  that  of  his  august  daughter  filled  up  the  measure 
of  public  affliction.  Could  I  approach  the  princesses 
to  speak  of  my  own  situation  ?  No  ;  and  though  I 
could  have  done  so,  my  heart  would  not  have  allowed 
me  ;  I  entertained  too  much  respect  for  their  grief,  and 
I  had  too  high  a  confidence  in  their  goodness,  not  to 
bear  my  sufferings  in  silence.  I  measured  my  desires 
by  my  means,  and  with  the  exception  of  the  hundred 
sequins  which  I  owed  to  a  friend,  I  was  in  debt  to 
nobody.  The  dark  clouds  began  at  length  to  dissipate. 
The  mournings  were  over,  and  the  court  gradually 
resumed  its  former  amenity.  The  princesses  had  the 
goodness  to  send  for  me.  I  received  a  present  of  a 
hundred  louis-d'ors  in  a  box  of  wrought  gold,  and  a 
settled  provision  for  me  was  mentioned.  The  prin- 
cesses demanded  for  me  the  titles  and  emoluments  of 
Italian  instructor  for  the  royal  family.  The  minister 
of  Paris  and  of  the  court  objected  to  this,  which,  he 
said,  would  be  a  new  office  at  court,  and  a  new  burden 
on  the  state.  I  could  have  demanded  a  thousand 
things,   but   I  demanded   nothing,    and   continued   to 


3/8  MEMOIRS   OF 

serve,  to  want,  and  to  hope.  Three  years  elapsed 
before  my  august  protectresses  could  procure  me  an 
annual  income. 

They  sent  for  the  minister.  "  We  do  not  want," 
said  they,  "  to  create  a  new  office  for  a  man  who  has 
yet  to  serve,  but  to  recompense  a  man  who  has  already 
served."  They  demanded  six  thousand  livres  a  year 
for  me.  The  minister  said  it  was  too  much.  "  I  dare 
say,"  said  he,  "  M.  Goldoni  will  be  contented  with  four 
thousand  francs."  The  princesses  took  him  at  his 
word,  and  the  affair  was  instantly  concluded.  I  was 
satisfied.  I  went  to  return  my  thanks  to  the  princesses, 
who  were  still  more  satisfied  than  myself;  and  they 
had  the  goodness  to  assure  me,  that,  in  one  way  or 
other,  I  should  have  all  their  nephews  and  nieces  for 
scholars,  and  that  the  salary  which  I  had  obtained  was 
but  the  commencement  of  the  favors  which  they  hoped 
I  should  one  day  enjoy.  If  I  have  not  profited  by  this 
favor,  it  has  been  my  own  fault  ;  I  was  ill  skilled  in 
asking  ;  I  was  at  court,  but  I  was  not  a  courtier.  The 
first  time  ray  order  was  paid  at  the  royal  treasury,  I 
only  received  thirty-six  hundred  livres,  four  hundred 
being  retained  for  the  tax  of  the  twentieth.  On  speak- 
ing, perhaps,  I  should  have  obtained  an  exception 
from  this  duty.  I  said  nothing,  however,  and  things 
have  always  remained  on  their  own  footing. 

My  income  was  not  very  considerable,  but  I  must  be 
just.  What  had  I  done  to  merit  it  ?  I  had  quitted 
Italy  for  France.  The  Italian  theatre  did  not  suit  me, 
and  my  return  to  Venice  was  open  to  me.  I  became 
attached,  however,  to  the  French  nation  ;  three  years 
of  an  easy,  honorable,  and  agreeable  service  procured 
me  the  pleasure  of  remaining  there.  Had  I  not  reason 
to  believe  mvself  fortunate  !     And  had  I  not  reason  to 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  379 

be  satisfied  ?  Besides,  the  princesses  told  me  I  should 
have  their  nephews  for  scholars  ;  there  were  three 
princes  and  two  princesses.  What  happy  prospecte  ! 
What  well-founded  hopes  !  "Was  this  not  enough  to 
satisfy  my  ambition  f  Why  should  I  have  solicited 
for  offices  or  commissions  to  which  the  natives  had  a 
better  right  than  a  stranger  ?  I  have  never  demanded 
any  favors  either  for  myself  or  my  nephew,  but  under 
circumstances  when  an  Italian  was  entitled  to  be  pre- 
ferred to  a  Frenchman.  As  soon  as  my  income  was 
fixed,  the  princesses  gave  over  the  Italian,  and  em- 
ployed in  other  studies  the  hours  formerly  destined  to 
me.  I  was  now  at  liberty  to  go  where  I  pleased,  and 
I  had  a  wish  to  return  to  Paris;  but  I  amused  myself 
tolerably  well  at  Versailles,  and  I  remained  there  some 
time  longer.  It  is  generally  said  at  Paris  that  a  Ver- 
sailles life  is  very  dull,  that  people  grow  weary  there, 
and  know  not  what  to  do  with  themselves.  I  can 
prove  the  contrary  :  those  who  are  discontented  with 
their  situation  will  find  every  place  wearisome  ;  those 
who  take  a  delight  in  their  occupation  will  find  them- 
selves as  comfortable  at  Versailles  as  anywhere  else  ; 
and  those  who  have  nothing  to  do  may  employ  their 
mornings  usefully  or  agreeably  in  the  castle,  the  pub- 
lic offices,  and  in  the  park,  and  may  everywhere  find 
interesting  objects  and  variety  of  pleasure. 

I  returned  to  settle  at  Paris,  but  I  still  kept  one  foot 
fast  at  Versailles.  It  was  my  interest  to  pay  my  court 
to  my  august  protectresses,  and  to  see  whether  the 
Italian  literature  and  language  could  gain  any  partisans 
among  the  young  princes  and  princesses.  The  study 
of  foreign  languages  is  not  considered  one  of  the  neces- 
sary branches  of  education  at  the  court  of  France,  but 
as  an  amusement  conceded  to  those  who  are  desirous 


,380  MEMOIRS    OF 

of  it,  and  capable  of  profiting  by  it.  One  of  the  three 
princes  only  seemed  disposed  to  learn  Italian,  and  the 
Abbé  de  Landonviller,  of  the  French  Academy,  had  the 
care  of  him.  The  abbé  employed  his  mode  of  teach- 
ing languages  which  he  published  in  1768;  he  suc- 
ceeded admirably,  and  the  prince  made  an  astonishing 
progress. 

I  endeavored  to  translate  some  scenes  of  my  u  Thea- 
tre," but  I  have  never  been  able  to  relish  translations,  and 
labor  seems  ever  disgusting  to  me,  without  the  charm 
of  imagination.  Several  persons  applied  to  me  for 
permission  to  translate  my  comedies  under  my  eyes, 
agreeably  to  my  opinions,  and  on  condition  of  sharing 
the  profit.  Since  my  arrival  in  France  up  to  the  pres- 
ent day,  a  single  year  has  never  passed  in  which  two 
or  more  translators  have  not  made  such  a  proposition 
to  me.  On  my  arrival  in  Paris,  I  even  found  one  per- 
son who  had  the  exclusive  privilege  of  translating  me, 
and  had  published  some  of  his  translations.  I  endeav- 
ored to  disgust  all  of  them  with  an  undertaking  of 
which  they  knew  not  the  difficulties. 


Ox  aniving  in  Paris,  I  did  not  think  I  should  fix 
my  residence  there  ;  but  having  decided  on  remaining, 
it  became  necessary  to  endeavor  to  procure  some  situa- 
tion for  my  brother's  son,  whom  I  loved  as  if  he  were 
my  own.  He  was  kind  and  docile  ;  he  had  gone 
through  his  studies  at  Venice  ;  he  was  fit  for  some 
good  employment  ;  I  was  not  rich  enough  to  purchase 
an  office  for  him,  and  I  wished  to  avoid,  if  possible, 
the  unpleasant  circumstance  of  entering  into  competi- 
tion for  favors  with  the   French.     There  was  a  pro- 


CARLO  GOLDONI.  381 

fessor  of  the  Italian  language  in  the  Royal  Military 
School  ;  M.  Conti,  who  tilled  that  situation,  was  my 
friend;  he  wished  to  retire,  hut  he  was  not  entitled  to 
a  pension  till  he  had  served  twenty  years,  and  he  could 
not,  therefore,  demand  it.  The  employment  was  good  ; 
it  was  an  eligible  situation  fur  a  young  man  ;  I  was 
anxious  that  my  nephew  should  obtain  it,  but  there 
were  difficulties  to  be  overcome.  I  implored  the  pro- 
tection of  Madame  Adelaide  of  France  ;  that  princess 
recommended  me  to  the  Duke  de  Choiseul,  and  in  fif- 
teen days'  time  M.  Conti  received  his  pension,  and  my 
nephew  his  place.  By  this  means  I  had  opportunities 
of  seeing  at  my  ease  two  establishments  worthy  of  the 
magnificence  of  the  French  monarchs,  the  Royal  Mil- 
itary School  and  the  Hospital  for  Invalids,  the  cradle 
and  the  grave  of  the  defenders  of  their  country.  The 
nobility  destined  to  the  military  life  are  educated  in  the 
former,  and  the  aged  and  wounded  in  war  are  relieved 
in  the  other  ;  thearts  and  sciences,  and  everything  that 
is  useful  in  education,  form  the  young  minds  in  the 
one  ;  in  the  other,  attention,  repose,  and  all  the  com- 
forts of  life,  are  enjoyed  by  the  veterans,  as  a  recom- 
pense for  their  past  services.  This  last  establishment 
was  founded  in  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV.  ;  the  other  in 
the  reign  of  Louis  XV.  The  Hospital  for  Invalids  is 
decorated  with  a  magnificent  temple,  which  would 
hold  an  honorable  rank  even  in  Rome  ;  and  the  four 
great  refectories  of  the  soldiers  are  as  curious  as  the 
kitchens  in  which  the  food  for  these  worthy  persons  is 
cooked. 

It  afforded  me  great  pleasure  to  pass  a  few  days  in 
these  two  royal  establishments,  which  are  so  close  to 
each  other,  and  of  which  I  knew  the  governors  and 
principal  persons  employed  ;  but  after  my  nephew  had 


382  MEMOIRS    OF 

been  there  twenty-two  months,  considerable  changes 
were  made  in  the  Military  School  ;  the  humanity  classes 
were  transferred  to  the  college  of  La  Flèche,  and  the 
Italian  class  was  altogether  suppressed.  This  was  not 
owing  to  the  fault  of  the  professor,  who  was  recom- 
pensed with  a  pension  of  six  hundred  francs. 

I  was  told  that  the  Duke  de  Choiseul  was  aware  of 
these  projected  changes  when  he  gave  the  place  to  my 
nephew,  and  that  he  conferred  on  us  an  employment 
which  would  be  suppressed,  for  the  sake  of  procuring 
us  this  little  favor.  This  minister,  considering  me  as 
under  the  protection  of  the  princesses,  manifested  great 
kiudness  for  me  ;  he  did  me  the  honor  to  tell  me,  when 
I  called  on  him  to  return  him  my  thanks  :  "  Your 
nephew's  affairs  are  now  in  a  good  way  ;  how  are  your 
own  !  "  I  answered  him,  I  enjoyed  an  income  of  thirty- 
six  hundred  livres  per  annum.  He  began  to  laugh. 
u  This  is  no  income,"  said  he  ;  "  we  must  have  some- 
thing else  for  you  ;  we  must  take  care  of  you."  I  have 
never,  however,  had  anything  further  ;  but  this  is  my 
own  fault  ;  I  must  return  to  the  burden  of  my  song  : 
I  was  at  court,  but  not  a  courtier. 

My  nephew,  who  was  without  any  employment, 
labored  with  me  till  something  else  should  turn  op. 
The  maxim  which  I  had  adopted,  and  with  which  I 
had  inspired  him,  never  to  mix  in  the  herd  of  competi- 
tors, rendered  success  more  difficult.  I  was  intimate 
at  Versailles  with  M.  Genet,  the  head  and  director  of 
the  office  for  translation,  to  which  he  gave  a  new  form 
and  a  solid  consistency,  and  which  was  placed  entirely 
under  his  control.  This  respectable  father,  who  divided 
his  time  between  the  duties  of  his  office  and  the  educa- 
tion of  his  children,  recollecting  that  I  had  once  done 
him  a  slight  service,  took  an  opportunity  of  recom- 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  383 

pending  me  for  it.  Since  the  acquisition  of  Corsica  an 
office  had  been  established  at  Versailles  for  the  affairs 
of  that  island,  and  an  interpreter  well  acquainted  with 
the  two  languages  was  wanted.  The  gentleman  at  the 
head  of  this  office  applied  to  M.  Genet  to  procure  one 
for  him;  my  worthy  friend,  mindful  of  me,  proposed 
my  nephew,  who  was  accepted  and  introduced  without 
any  difficulty.  This  young  man  seemed  destined  to 
encounter  nothing  but  reforms  and  suppressions.  The 
office  for  Corsica  was  abolished  shortly  afterwards  ; 
the  affairs  of  finance  were  given  to  the  comptroller- 
general,  and  the  civil  administration  was  transferred  to 
the  war  department.  The  interpreter  was  transferred 
there.  This  inspection ^vas  annexed  to  the  office  of 
M.  Campi,  principal  secretary  for  controverted  affairs. 
My  nephew  endeavors  to  render  himself  useful  :  he  is 
fortunate  enough  to  please  his  superiors,  from  whom 
he  has  received  various  proofs  of  kindness.  If  my 
journey  to  France  had  been  productive  of  no  other  ad- 
vantage than  that  of  settling  this  dear  youth,  I  should 
still  be  pleased  with  having  undertaken  it. 

I  was  attached  to  France  from  inclination,  and  I 
became  still  more  strongly  so  through  gratitude.  The 
Chevalier  Gradenigo,  the  Venetian  ambassador,  not- 
withstanding his  anxiety  for  my  accepting  the  proposi- 
tions of  his  countrymen,  could  not  but  approve  of  my 
resistance,  and  undertook  to  justify  me  with  his  friends 
and  my  protectors.  This  minister's  commission  was 
nearly  at  an  end  ;  the  embassies  of  the  republic  last 
only  four  years.  M.  Gradenigo  was  beloved  by  the 
court  and  ministry  of  France,  who  were  desirous  that 
he  should  remain  some  time  longer.  The  king  was 
even  disposed  to  apply  for  his  stay,  and  the  minister 
had  a  courier  in  readiness  to  despatch  for  that  purpose. 


384  MEMOIRS    OF 

The  ambassador  felt  the  utmost  respect  and  gratitude 
f.  >r  these  marks  of  honor,  but  he  could  not  give  his 
consent  ;  the  laws  of  the  republic  are  immutable  ;  the 
successor  was  on  his  way  ;  M.  Gradenigo  had  therefore 
no  option,  and  was  obliged  to  set  out,  and  the  prepara- 
tions for  his  audience  of  leave  were  far  advanced.  The 
Duke  de  Choiseul.  minister  for  foreign  affairs,  deemed 
this  ceremony  costly,  troublesome,  and  entirely  useless, 
and  the  kin»-  was  of  the  same  opinion.  M.  Gradenigo 
was  installed  a  knight  or  chevalier  by  his  majesty  with- 
out the  usual  pomp,  and  he  paid  his  visits  to  the  royal 
family  and  the  princes  of  the  blood  as  a  private  indi- 
vidual. This  is  the  era  of  the  suppression  of  public 
audiences  for  ordinary  ambassadors. 

This  ambassador  was  succeeded  by  the  Chevalier 
Sebastian  Mocenigo,  Avho  came  from  Spain,  wnither 
he  was  despatched  on  his  first  embassy  by  the  republic 
of  Venice.  He  was  of  a  very  illustrions,  ancient,  and 
rich  family  :  he  was  clever,  intelligent,  amiable,  a  good 
musician,  and  sang  charmingly.  But  —  he  experienced 
some  things  of  an  unpleasant  nature,  which  he  did  not 
perhaps  deserve. 

I  was  invited  to  London,  the  only  place  in  Europe 
which  can  dispute  precedency  with  Paris,  and  I  should 
have  liked  to  see  it  :  but  I  heard  great  marriages 
talked  of  at  Versailles,  and  as  I  had  been  at  all  the 
funerals  of  the  court,  I  wished  not  to  be  absent  in  a 
time  of  rejoicing.  Besides,  I  was  not  asked  for  by  the 
King  of  England,  but  by  the  managers  of  the  opera, 
who  were  anxious  to  attach  me  to  it.  I  endeavored, 
however,  to  turn  the  favorable  opinion  which  they  en- 
tertained of  me  to  some  account  ;  I  assigned  good  rea- 
sons by  way  of  excuse,  and  I  offered  them  my  services 
on  condition  of  remaining  in  France.     My  proposition 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  385 

was  accepted.  They  asked  me  for  a  new  comic  opera, 
and  employed  me  to  arrange  all  the  old  dramas  which 
they  had  adopted  for  the  current  year.  They  said 
nothing  respecting  my  recompense,  and  I  did  not  men- 
tion it.  I  applied  myself  to  the  work;  the  English 
were  satisfied  with  me  ;  I  was  highly  pleased  with 
their  return.  This  correspondence  was  continued  for 
several  years,  and  an  end  was  not  put  to  it  till  the 
directors  were  succeeded  by  others,  on  which  occasion 
I  received  an  unequivocal  mark  of  their  satisfaction,  as 
they  paid  me  for  an  opera  which  it  was  impossible  for 
them  then  to  use.  This  direction  was  in  the  hands 
of  women,  and  women  are  amiable  in  every  country. 
The  most  agreeable  and  finished  work  which  I  sent 
to  them  was,  in  my  opinion,  a  comic  opera,  entitled 
"  Yictorina  "  ;  and  I  received  from  London  compliments 
and  thanks  without  end  on  account  of  it.  M.  Piccini, 
who  set  it  to  music,  wrote  to  me  from  Naples  that  he 
never  read  a  comic  drama  from  which  he  derived  so 
much  pleasure.  The  success,  however,  did  not  cor- 
respond with  the  prepossession  of  the  directors  or  my 
own. 

Sometimes  I  see  bagatelles,  seemingly  destitute  of 
meaning,  extolled  to  the  skies  ;  and  at  other  times 
well-written  pieces  fail,  because  the  subject  is  too 
melancholy  for  tears,  or  not  sufficiently  gay  to  elicit 
laughter.  AYhat  are  the  precepts  of  the  comic  opera  ? 
What  are  its  rules  !  It  has  none.  All  is  done  by  rou- 
tine :  I  know  from  experience,  and  ought  to  be  be- 
lieved :  e.rperto  crede  Roberto.  Shall  I  be  told  that 
the  Italian  comic  operas  are  mere  farces,  unworthy  of 
being  put  in  comparison  with  the  poems  which  go  by 
that  name  in  France  !  Let  those  who  know  the  Ital- 
ian language  give  themselves   the   trouble    of  going 


386  MEMOIRS   OF 

over  the  six  volumes  which  contain  the  collection  of 
my  works  of  this  nature,  and  they  will  see,  perhaps, 
that  the  subjects  and  the  style  are  not  so  contemptible. 
They  are  not,  it  is  true,  good  dramas,  hut  they  are 
capable  of  being  made  so.  I  never  thought  of  com- 
posing any  from  taste  or  choice,  and  I  never  labored 
on  them  but  from  motives  of  complaisance  or  interest. 
When  we  are  possessed  of  talents,  we  must  turn  them 
to  some  account  ;  a  history  painter  will  not  refuse  to 
draw  a  baboon,  if  he  be  well  paid  for  it. 

The  Italian  theatre  is  as  fortunate  in  actors  as 
authors,  and  all  are  well  treated  and  well  recompensed. 
The  poets  and  musicians  enjoy  the  ninth  of  the  re- 
ceipts for  a  piece  of  five  or  three  acts,  the  twelfth  for 
a  piece  of  two  acts,  and  the  eighteenth  for  a  piece  of 
one  act  ;  besides,  two  annual  pensions  have  been  es- 
tablished at  the  Italian  theatre,  one  for  the  author  of 
the  words,  and  another  for  the  author  of  the  music 
of  the  greatest  merit.  At  this  theatre  authors  enjoy 
another  considerable  advantage  ;  they  never  lose  the 
right  to  their  pieces  ;  they  always  enjoy  the  fixed 
share  ;  they  give  tickets  gratis  for  every  representation 
of  their  works  ;  and  the  pieces  which  have  not  been 
refused  by  the  public  are  placed  in  the  repertory  of 
the  week,  so  that  they  never  fall.  In  consequence  of 
these  advantages,  I  have  been  more  than  once  tempted 
to  yield  to  the  solicitations  of  several  musicians,  who 
frequently,  very  frequently,  almost  every  day  indeed, 
asked  me  for  some  work  for  the  comic  opera;  after 
much  thinking,  revising,  and  thoroughly  examining, 
I  imagined  I  had  fallen  upon  the  routine  necessary  to 
please  the  French,  and  I  composed  a  small  piece  in 
two  acts,  called  the  "  Bouillotte."  This  word  is  not 
to  be  found  in  any  dictionary,  but  it  is  well  known  at 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  387 

Paris  ;  it  is  a  game  at  cards,  a  brelan  at  five,  the  tricks 
of  which  are  neither  fixed  nor  marked.  He  who  loses 
his  stake  goes  out  and  is  succeeded  by  another;  in 
these  parties  of  bouillotte  there  are  generally  three  or 
four  persons,  who  do  not  play  at  first,  who  wait  for 
the  going  out  of  the  unfortunate  before  they  begin 
playing,  and  all  go  out  successfully.  This  perpetual 
movement,  and  the  number  of  people  interested  in  the 
same  game,  occasion  a  sort  of  agitation  or  boiling 
(bouillonnement)  which  has  given  rise  to  the  name 
"  bouillotte." 

So  long  as  nothing  more  than  dialogue  was  neces- 
sary, I  succeeded  tolerably  well;  and  I  thought  I 
might  venture  my  prose  on  a  theatre  where  the  public 
are  indulgent  to  strangers.  But  in  a  comic  opera  airs 
were  necessary,  and  good  music  required  good  poetry. 
I  knew  the  mechanism  of  French  versification.  I  had 
surmounted  all  the  difficulties  which  a  foreign  ear  must 
experience,  and  I  had  selected  good  models  for  imita- 
tion. I  set  myself  to  work,  and  composed  couplets, 
quatrains,  whole  airs  ;  and  after  all  the  pains  taken  by 
me,  I  saw  that  my  Muse  in  a  French  dress  had  not 
that  fire,  that  grace  and  facility,  which  an  author  ac- 
quires in  his  youth,  and  brings  to  perfection  in  his 
mature'years.  I  became  sensible  of  my  imperfections, 
and  gave  up  my  work  ;  and  I  renounced  forever  the 
charms  of  French  poetry.  I  might  have  confided  my 
subject  to  some  one  who  would  have  perhaps  taken 
the  charge  of  the  versification  ;  but  then  to  whom 
could  I  apply  ?  An  author  of  the  first  rank  would 
have  changed  my  plan,  and  an  inferior  author  would 
have  spoiled  it.  Besides,  it  was  a  trifle  which  I  did 
not  care  much  for,  and  I  soon  forgot  it.  I  found  it  in 
the  rummaging  among  my  papers  which  my  Memoirs 


388  MEMOIRS   OF 

occasion  mo  to  make  :  and  as  I  communicate  all  my 

productions  to  my  readers,  I  make  it  a  point  of  con- 
science not  to  conceal  this  abortion.  If  any  of  my 
readers  deem  this  subject  worthy  of  his  attention,  I 
leave  him  full  power  to  do  with  it  what  he  pleas,  s  : 
and  if  he  will  have  the  goodness  to  consult  me,  I  shall 
tell  him  sincerely  my  opinion,  even  at  the  risk  of  dis- 
pleasing him,  which  has  happened  to  me  more  than 
once  under  similar  circumstances.  Beware,  my  friends, 
of  those  young  people,  those  inferior  authors,  who 
come  to  consult  you.  They  do  not  want  your  advice, 
but  compliments  and  applauses.  If  you  endeavor  to 
correct  them,  yon  will  soon  see  with  what  obstinacy 
they  maintain  their  opinions,  and  what  a  coloring  they 
give  to  their  faults  ;  and  if  you  persist,  they  at  last 
conclude  you  to  be  a  fool. 


YI. 

I  have  already  announced  that  preparations  for 
great  marriages  were  making  at  court  in  the  year  1/70, 
a  time  when  the  Archduchess  of  Austria.  Marie  An- 
toinette of  Lorraine,  came  as  a  dauphiness  to  fill  this 
kingdom  with  joy.  glory,  and  hope.  By  the  qualities 
of  her  head  and  her  heart,  she  gained  the  esteem  of  the 
king,  the  affection  of  her  husband,  the  friendship  of 
the  royal  family,  and  by  her  beneficence  she  merited 
the  public  admiration.  This  virtue,  which  in  our 
days  has  become  the  ruling  passion  of  Frenchmen, 
seems  to  have  excited  an  emulation  in  souls  possessed 
of  sensibility  from  the  example  set  by  that  august 
princess. 

These  nuptials  were  celebrated  with  a  pomp  worthy 
of  the  grandson  of  the  French  monarch  and  the  daugh- 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  389 

ter  of  the  Empress  of  Germany.  I  saw  the  richly 
decorated  temple,  the  majestic  view  of  the  royal  ban- 
quet, the  ball  in  the  gallery,  and  the  gaming  parties 
in  the  apartments.  There  were  illuminations  every- 
where, and  fireworks  of  the  greatest  beauty.  Torre, 
an  Italian  artificer,  on  this  occasion,  carried  the  pyro- 
technical  art  to  the  highest  perfection. 

The  new  court -theatre  was  opened  at  the  same 
time.  It  is  a  superb  building,  but  the  architecture  is 
more  majestic  than  convenient  for  the  spectators.  It 
ooght  to  be  seen  when  dress  or  masked  balls  are  given. 
The  theatre,  on  these  occasions,  is  decorated  with  the 
same  ornaments  as  the  rest  of  the  house,  and  the 
whole  forms  an  immense  saloon,  enriched  with  col- 
umns, looking-glasses,  and  gildings,  which  prove  the 
grandeur  of  the  sovereign  by  whom  it  was  ordered, 
and  the  taste  of  the  artist  by  whom  it  was  executed. 
In  the  rejoicings  on  this  august  marriage  the  French 
poets  made  court  and  city  resound  with  their  songs. 
My  Muse  was  desirous  of  awaking;  I  endeavored  to 
do  something  also;  and  I  composed  Italian  verses, 
but  I  did  not  dare  to  print  them.  Among  the  infinite 
number  of  compositions  which  appeared  every  day. 
some  were  excellent,  while  others  were  not  so  much  as 
read.  I  was  unwilling  to  augment  the  number  of  the 
latter,  and  I  presented  my  verses  in  manuscript.  The 
dauphiness  received  them  with  kindness  and  gave  me 
to  understand,  in  very  good  Italian,  that  I  was  not 
unknown  to  her. 

It  would  seem  that  the  happy  star  which  then  shed 
its  influence  over  this  kingdom  inspired  me  with  zeal, 
ambition,  and  courage.  I  then  conceived  the  project 
of  composing  a  French  comedy;  and  I  had  the  te- 
merity to  offer   it  to  the  French   theatre.     The    word 


390  MEMOIRS   OF 

u  temerity  "  is  not  too  strong  oil  this  occasion  :  for  must 
it  not  be  regarded  in  this  light,  that  I,  a  stranger,  who 

had  never  set  foot  in  France  till  the  age  of  fifty-three, 
with  merely  a  confused  and  superficial  knowledge  of 
that  language,  should  venture,  after  a  lapse  of  nine 
years,  to  compose  a  piece  for  the  principal  theatre  of 
the  nation  ?  You  are  aware,  I  suppose,  my  reader,  that 
I  am  speaking  of  "  The  Surly  Benefactor"  (Bourru 
Benifaisant),  a  fortunate  piece,  which  crowned  my 
labors,  and  set  the  seal  to  my  reputation. 

It  was  given  for  the  first  time  at  Paris  on  the  4th  of 
November,  1771,  and  next  day  at  Fontainebleau  ;  and 
it  had  the  same  success  at  the  court  and  in  the  city. 
1  received  a  gratification  of  one  hundred  and  fifty 
louis-d'ors  from  the  king,  and  my  right  of  authorship 
brought  me  in  a  handsome  sum  at  Paris.  My  book- 
seller treated  me  with  great  liberality,  and  I  was  over- 
powered with  honor,  pleasure,  and  joy.  I  tell  the 
truth,  and  make  no  concealment;  false  modesty  is  as 
odious  in  my  eyes  as  vanity.  I  will  not  attempt  any 
extracts  from  a  comedy  which  is  everywhere  acted, 
and  in  everybody's  hands. 

My  comedy  could  not  have  been  more  successful. 
I  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  find  in  nature  a  char- 
acter every  day  to  be  met  with,  which,  however,  had 
escaped  the  vigilance  of  ancient  and  modern  authors. 
They  imagined,  perhaps,  that  a  rude  and  surly  indi- 
vidual, from  the  inconvenience  which  he  occasions  to 
society,  would  be  disgusting  on  the  stage  ;  and,  con- 
sidering the  character  in  this  point  of  view,  they  have 
acted  wisely  in  not  bringing  it  forward.  I  should 
have  followed  their  example,  had  other  views  not 
inspired  me  with  the  hope  of  turning  it  to  account. 
The  beneficence  constitutes  the  principal  object  of  my 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  391 

piece  ;  and  the  vivacity  of  the  beneficent  individual  fur- 
nishes the  comic  humor  which  is  inseparable  from 
comedy.  Beneficence  is  a  virtue  of  the  soul;  rough- 
ness is  hut  a  constitutional  defect  ;  both  arc  compatible 
in  the  same  subject  ;  on  these  principles  I  formed  my 
plan,  and  the  sensibility  of  my  protagonist  was  what 
alone  rendered  him  supportable. 

On  the  first  representation  of  my  comedy,  I  con- 
cealed myself,  as  I  had  always  doue  in  Italy,  behind 
the  curtain;  I  saw  nothing,  but  I  heard  my  actors  and 
the  applauses  of  the  public;  I  stalked  backwards  and 
forwards  during  the  whole  time  of  the  play,  quicken- 
ing my  steps  in  passages  of  interest  and  passion,  sat- 
isfied with  the  actors,  and  echoing  the  applauses  of 
the  public.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  play  I  heard 
clapping  of  hands  and  shouts  of  applause  without  end. 
M.  Dauberval,  who  was  to  conduct  me  to  Fontaine- 
bleau, arrived.  1  imagined  he  came  to  urge  my  de- 
parture ;  but  he  came  for  a  very  different  purpose. 
"Come,  sir,"  said  he,  "you  must  exhibit  yourself." 
"Exhibit  myself!  to  whom?"  "To  the  public, 
which  calls  for  you."  "  Xo,  no,  friend,  let  us  take  our 
departure  with  all  expedition  ;  I  could  not  support — " 
Here  M.  le  Kain  and  M.  Brizard  laid  hold  of  me,  and 
dragged  me  on  the  stage.  I  had  seen  authors  undergo 
a  similar  ceremony  with  courage  ;  but  I  was  not  accus- 
tomed to  it.  In  Italy  poets  are  not  called  to  appear 
on  the  stage  for  the  purpose  of  being  complimented 
by  the  audience;  I  could  not  conceive  how  a  man 
could,  as  it  were,  say  tacitly  to  the  spectators,  "Here 
I  am,  gentlemen,  ready  for  your  applause." 

After  supporting  tor  several  seconds  a  situation  of 
the  greatest  constraint  and  singularity,  I  at  last  retired 
and    crossed  the  stage,  to  gain  the   coach  which  was 


392  MEMOIRS    OF 

in  waiting  for  me.  I  met  numbers  of  people  who 
were  seeking  me.  I  distinguished  no  one;  I  accom- 
panied my  guide,  and  entered  the  coach,  in  which  my 
wife  and  nephew  were  already  seated.  At  the  success 
of  my  piece  they  wept  for  joy,  and  at  the  account  of 
my  appearance  on  the  stage  they  were  ready  to  die  of 
laughter.  I  was  fatigued,  and  required  some  repose  ; 
I  wanted  sleep  :  my  soul  was  satisfied  and  my  mind 
tranquil:  I  should  have  passed  a  happy  night  in  bed, 
but  in  the  carriage  I  closed  my  eyes  and  was  awaked 
again  every  moment  by  the  jostling.  In  short,  after 
a  good  deal  of  dozing,  talking,  and  yawning,  I  arrived 
at  Fontainebleau,  where  I  immediately  went  to  bed. 
After  dining,  and  a  short  walk.  I  repaired  to  the  castle 
to  witness  the  representation  of  my  piece,  and  kept 
always  behind  the  curtain. 

I  have  spoken  of  its  success  at  court.  It  was  not 
allowable  at  that  time  to  applaud  in  presence  of  the 
king  :  but  it  was  easy  to  see.  from  the  movement  and 
the  countenances  of  the  spectators,  the  effect  whieh 
the  piece  produced  on  them.  Next  day  the  Marshal 
de  Duras  did  me  the  honor  to  present  me  privately  to 
the  king  in  his  closet.  His  majesty  aud  all  the  royal 
family  bestowed  on  me  fresh  proofs  of  their  usual  lib- 
erality. I  returned  to  Paris  to  witness  the  second 
representation  of  my  piece.  That  day  several  symp- 
toms of  ill-fiumor  were  exhibited  in  the  pit.  I  was 
in  my  usual  place.  M.  Feuilli  came  down  and  told 
me  not  to  be  uneasy,  for  it  was  nothing  but  a  cabal. 
"  What  !  *'  said  I,  "  there  was  nothing  of  this  kind  at 
the  first  representation."  "  Those  who  are  now  jeal- 
ous were  not  then  afraid  of  you,"  said  the  actor  ;  "  they 
laughed  at  the  idea  of  a  foreigner  attempting  to  write 
a  French  comedy,  and  the  cabal  was  not  then  organ- 


CARLO    GOLDOXL  393 

ized  ;  but  you  have  nothing  to  fear,"  added  he,  "  the 
blow  has  taken  effect,  and  your  success  is  certain/'  In 
reality,  the  piece  met  with  increasing  success  till  the 
twelfth  representation,  when  it  was  withdrawn  by  the 
actors  and  myself,  for  the  sake  of  reproducing  it  in  a 
more  advantageous  season. 

Nobody  said  anything  against  my  play,  but  it  was 
the  subject  of  much  conversation.  Some  said  it  was 
a  piece  of  my  Italian  theatre  ;  others  thought  I  had 
written  it  in  Italian  and  translated  it  into  French. 
The  collection  of  my  works  may  convince  the  former 
of  the  contrary,  and  I  shall  now  proceed  to  undeceive 
the  latter,  if  there-  >till  be  any  who  retain  that  opinion. 
I  not  only  composed  my  piece  in  French,  but  I 
thought  in  the  French  manner  when  engaged  in  it. 
It  has  the  stamp  of  its  origin  in  the  thoughts,  in  the 
imagery,  in  the  manner,  and  in  the  style. 

I  wrote  then  and  conceived  this  piece  in  French, 
hut  I  was  not  so  bold  as  to  produce  it  without  con- 
sulting persons  capable  of  affording  me  both  correc- 
tion and  instruction.  I  even  availed  myself  of  their 
opinions. 

Nearly  about  this  time  M.  Eousseau,  of  Geneva,  re- 
turned to  Paris.  Every  person  was  eager  to  see  him, 
but  he  was  net  visible  to  all.  I  knew  him  only  by 
reputation,  but  I  had  a  strong  desire  to  converse  with 
him,  and  would  gladly  have  shown  my  piece  to  a  man 
so  well  acquainted  with  the  French  literature  and  lan- 
guage. 

It  was  necessary  to  inform  him  beforehand,  to  insure 
a  favorable  reception  ;  I  therefore  adopted  the  resolu- 
tion of  writing  to  him,  and  expressing, my  desire  to 
form  an  acquaintance  with  him.  He  returned  a  very 
polite  answer,  informing  nie  that  he  never  left  his  home 


394  MEMOIRS   OF 

or  went  anywhere,  but  that,  if  I  would  give  myself  the 
trouble  to  climb  four  pair  of  stairs  in  the  Hôtel  Plâtrèire, 
in  the  street  Plàtrière,  it  would  be  doing  him  a  great 
pleasure.  I  accepted  the  invitation,  and  called  on  him 
a  few  days  afterwards. 

I  will  here  give  an  account  of  my  conversation 
with  the  citizen  of  Geneva.  The  result  is  not,  indeed, 
very  interesting  :  my  piece  was  only  mentioned  inci- 
dentally, and  without  alluding  to  any  consequences; 
but  I  avail  myself  of  this  opportunity  of  mentioning 
this  extraordinary  man,  who  possessed  talents  of  the 
very  highest  order,  with  incredible  prejudices  and  weak- 
nesses. 

I  ascended  to  the  fourth  story  of  the  house  he  de- 
scribed. On  knocking,  the  door  was  opened  by  a 
woman  who  was  neither  young  nor  pretty  nor  pre- 
possessing. 

I  asked  if  M.  Rousseau  was  at  home.  "  He  is,  and 
he  is  not,"  said  the  woman,  whom  at  most  I  took  for 
his  housekeeper,  and  who  asked  my  name.  On  giving 
it.  she  said,  "You  were  expected,  sir;  and  I  shall 
instantly  announce  you  to  my  husband."  On  entering  a 
moment  afterwards,  I  discovered  the  author  of  ''Emile" 
busied  in  copying  music.  This  I  was  previously  in- 
formed of,  and  I  saw  it  with  silent  indignation.  He 
received  me  in  a  frank  and  friendly  manner,  and  as  he 
rose  he  held  out  some  sheets  tome,  and  said,  "  See,  sir, 
if  anybody  can  copy  music  like  me;  I  defy  any  one  to 
show  anything  from  the  press  divided  as  beautifully 
and  exactly  as  I  do  it  :  come,  let  us  warm  ourselves," 
he  continued,  and  with  one  step  we  were  close  to  the 
h  re. 

The  fire  was  low,  and  he  demanded  fresh  wood, 
which  was  brought  in  by  Madame  Rousseau.     I  rose 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  395 

and  offered  my  chair  to  her.  "  Do  not  disturb  your- 
self/' said  the  husband,  "  my  wife  has  her  concerns  to 
attend  to." 

My  heart  was  grieved  to  see  a  man  of  letters  em- 
ployed as  a  copyist,  and  his  wife  acting  as  a  servant. 
It  was  a  painful  spectacle  for  me,  and  I  could  neither 
conceal  my  astonishment  nor  my  pain,  though  I  said 
nothing.  As  he  was  not  wanting  in  penetration,  he 
perceived  that  something  was  passing  in  my  mind  ;  he 
questioned  me,  and  I  was  forced  to  tell  him  the  cause 
of  my  silence  and  astonishment. 

"  What!  "  said  he,  "you  pity  me  because  I  am  em- 
ployed in  copying  'I  You  imagine  that  I  should  be 
better  employed  in  composing  books  for  people  incapa- 
ble of  reading  them,  and  supplying  articles  to  unprinci- 
pled journalists  ?  You  are  mistaken;  I  am  passionately 
fond  of  music;  I  copy  from  excellent  originals;  this 
enables  me  to  live,  and  serves  to  amuse  me  ;  and  what 
more  should  I  have  ?  But  what  are  you  yourself 
doing?"  continued  he.  "  You  came  to  France  to  la- 
bor for  the  Italian  comedians,  who  are  lazy  fellows 
and  do  not  want  your  pieces.  Eeturn  again  to  your 
own  country  ;  I  know  that  you  are  wished  for,  that  you 
are  expected  —  " 

"  Sir,"  said  I,  interrupting  him,  "  you  are  in  the 
right  ;  I  ought  to  have  quitted  Paris  in  consequence  of 
the  carelessness  of  the  Italian  actors,  but  other  views 
have  detained  me.  I  have  been  composing  a  piece  in 
French."  "  You  have  composed  a  piece  in  French  !  " 
said  he,  with  an  air  of  astonishment,  "and  what  do 
you  mean  to  do  with  it?"  "Give  it  to  the  theatre." 
"To  what  theatre?"  "To  the  French  Theatre." 
"  You  were  reproaching  me  just  now  with  losing  my 
time,  but    you    seem  to  be  losing  yours  without  any 


396  MEMOIRS    OF 

benefit  whatever.''  "My.  piece  is  received."  "  Is  it 
possible  1  I  am  not,  however,  astonished  at  it;  the 
actors  arc  destitute  even  of  common-sense  ;  they  receive 
and  reject  merely  at  random  ;  it  is  received,  perhaps, 
but  it  will  not  he  acted;  and  so  much  the  worse  for 
you  if  it  be  played."  "  How  can  you  form  any  judgment 
of  a  piece  with  which  you  are  unacquainted  Î  "  "I 
know  the  taste  of  both  the  Italians  and  the  French; 
they  are  too  dissimilar,  and,  with  your  permission,  your 
age  is  not  the  time  to  begin  to  write  and  to  compose  in  a 
foreign  language.7'  "  Your  reflections  are  just,  sir.  bnt 
these  difficulties  may  be  surmounted.  I  confided  my 
work  to  men  of  abilities  and  theatrical  experience,  who 
appeared  satisfied  with  it."  "  They  merely  flatter  and 
deceive  you  ;  you  will  be  their  dupe.  Show  me  your 
piece  :  I  am  sincere  and  honest,  and  will  tell  you  the 
truth." 

This  was  precisely  what  I  was  aiming  at,  not  for  the 
sake  of  consulting  him,  but  to  see  whether  he  would 
persist,  after  reading  my  piece,  in  his  want  of  confidence 
in  me.  The  manuscript  was  in  the  hands  of  the 
copyist  of  the  French  Theatre,  and  I  promised  to  If. 
Rousseau  that  he  should  have  a  sight  of  it  as  soon 
as  it  was  returned  to  me.  My  intention  was  to  keep 
my  word  with  him,  and  I  shall  explain  why  I  did  not 
do  so. 

There  appeared,  about  three  years  ago,  a  book  en- 
titled "The  Confessions  of  J.  J.  Rousseau,  citizen  of 
Geneva,  containing  anecdotes  of  his  life,  written  by 
himself."  In  this  work  he  does  not  spare  himself;  he 
even  advances  singularities  with  respect  to  himself 
which  might  be  injurious  to  him  if  his  celebrity  did  not 
elevate  him  above  criticism.  But  I  am  acquainted  with 
one  circumstance  which  happened  to  him  in  the  latter 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  397 

years  of  his  life,  that  is  not  to  be  found  in  his  "  Con- 
fessions." The  author  has  perhaps  forgotten  it,  or  had 
not  had  time  to  insert  it  among  the  rest,  as  his  book  is 
posthumous.  This  anecdote  does  not  concern  me  par- 
ticularly, but  I  mention  it  because  it  prevented  me  from 
communicating  my  comedy  to  M.  Rousseau. 

This  learned  stranger  had  Mends  and  a  number  of 
admirers  at  Paris.  M was  both  a  friend  and  ad- 
mirer ;  he  loved,  esteemed,  and  pitied  him  at  the  same 
time,  being  acquainted  with  his  distress  as  well  as  his 

talents.     M proposed  to  the  Genevese  author  very 

elegant  and  commodious  furnished  apartments,  near  the 
garden  of  the  Tuileries  ;  and  that  it  might  not  shock 
the  delicacy  of  his  friend,  he  offered  them  to  him  for 
the  same  price  as  that  he  paid  for  the  lodgings  he  occu- 
pied. M.  Rousseau  perceived  the  intention  of  the  gen- 
erous man,  rejected  the  offer  abruptly,  and  exclaimed 

that  he  would  not  be  deceived.     M ,  who  was  also 

a  philosopher,  and  being  a  Frenchman  could  unite 
politeness  with  his  philosophy,  did  not  allow  himself 
to  be  chagrined  at  the  refusal  ;  he  knew  the  man,  and 
pardoned  him  his  foibles;  he  continued  to  call  on  him, 
and  good-naturedly  climbed  up  to  the  fourth  story  to 
enjoy  his  conversation. 

He  had  heard  of  the  "  Confessions  of  J.  J.  Rousseau," 
and  entertained  a  desire  to  see  the  whole  or  part  of 
them  ;  and  having  himself,  in  his  portfolio,  characters 
of  the  age  composed  by  him,  in  the  manner  of  Theo- 
phrastus  and  La  Bruyère,  he  proposed  to  his  friend 
the  reading  of  their  respective  works.     M.  Rousseau 

accepted  the  proposition,  but  on  condition  that  M 

would  be  satisfied  with  a  frugal  supper  at  the  Hôtel 

Plâtrière.     M observed  that  they  would  be  more 

comfortable  at  his  house.     "  That  may  be,"  said  the 


398  MEMOIRS   OF 

other,  but  you  must  sup  with  me,  or  the  reading  shall 
not  take  place.  The  only  concession  I  can  make," 
he  added,  "is  to  allow  yon  to  bring  a  bottle  of  your 
wine,  for  they  give  me  very  "bad  wine  where  I  am 
lodged." 

The  complaisant  Frenchman  agreed  to  everything  ; 
but  unfortunately  he  was  too  kind,  too  polite,  having 
sent  a  basket  with  six:  bottles  of  excellent  wine  and  six 
bottles  of  Malaga.  This  surprise  put  the  Genevese  in 
ill-humor.  When  the  Frenchman  arrived,  he  was 
not  backward  in  perceiving  it,  and  asked  some  expla- 
nation. "We  two,"  said  Rousseau,  "  cannot  drink 
twelve  bottles  of  wine  ;  I  have  taken  one  from  your 
basket,  which  is  enough  for  a  moderate  supper  ;  send 
back  the  remainder  instantly,  or  you  shall  not  sup  with 
me." 

The  threat  was  not  very  alarming,  but  it  was  the 
reading  which  interested  the  guest;  his  servant  was 
at  hand,  and  he  gave  him  the  basket  to  carry  back. 
Rousseau  was  satisfied,  and  began  first  to  read.  The 
sending  back  the  wine  was  attended  with  much  loss  of 
time  ;  they  were  interrupted  by  Madame  Rousseau, 
who  wanted  the  table  for  the  supper  ;  they  could  have 
read  without  a  table,  but  the  supper  was  served  up  in- 
stantly. It  consisted  of  a  pullet  and  a  salad,  and  noth- 
ing more.     When  the  supper  was  over,  it  was  M 's 

turn  to  read  ;  he  read  a  chapter,  which  was  applauded 
as  very  good;  he  read  a  second,  and  M.  Rousseau  rose, 
and  walked  backwards  and  forwards  with  a  discon- 
tented and  displeased  air.  When  interrogated  respect- 
ing the  cause  of  his  anger,  he  said,  "It  is  unbecoming 
to  insult  respectable  people  in  their  own  house." 
"What,"  said  the  other,  "do  you  complain  of?" 
"  You  have  not  a  fool  to  deal  with,"  replied  the  phi- 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  399 

losopher;  "this  is  my  portrait,  which  you  have  been 
drawing  in  exaggerated  colors,  with  satirical  traits, — 

it  is  shocking,  it  is  unworthy  !  *' 

"  Gently,  my  good  sir/'  said  the  Frenchman.  "  I 
love  and  esteem  you,  and  you  know  me;  the  person 
whom  I  have  been  portraying  is  one  of  those  harsh, 
troublesome,  and  hitter  individuals  who  an-  so  fre- 
quently met  with  in  society.*1  "  Yes.  yes,"  replied  M. 
Rousseau,  "  I  am  aware  that  I  pass  for  a  character  of 
this  kind  in  the  minds  of  the  ignorant  ;  I  pity  and 
despise  them,  but  I  cannot  hear  that  a  man  like  you, 
that  a  friend,  real  or  pretended,  should  come  to  laugh 
at  me." 

It  was  in  vain  for  M to  speak  ;  he  could  gain 

nothing;  the  head  of- the  other  was  disordered,  they 
quarrelled  seriously,  and  at  last  a  very  sharp  corre- 
spondence took  place  between  them. 

I  was  intimate  with  the  French  author.  I  saw  him 
the  day  after  his  rupture  with  M.  Rousseau  in  a  com- 
pany where  we  frequently  met;  he  communicated  to 
us  what  had  taken  place.  Some  laughed,  and  others 
made  observations  on  it.  It  furnished  me  also  with 
food  for  reflection.  Rousseau  was  blunt  ;  he  had  even 
owned  it  in  his  dispute  with  his  friend  ;  he  had  only  to 
appropriate  to  himself  the  beneficence  also,  and  then 
he  would  have  said  that  I  wished  to  portray  him  in 
my  play.  I  carefully,  therefore,  avoided  exposing  my- 
self to  the  effects  of  ill-humor,  and  I  never  saw  him 
again.  This  man  had  received  the  most  excellent 
qualities  from  nature,  and  he  gave  striking  proofs  of  it  ; 
but  he  was  of  the  Protestant  Reformed  religion,  and 
he  composed  works  which  were  not  orthodox.  For 
this  he  was  obliged  to  leave  France,  which  he  had 
adopted  as  his  country;    and   this   disaster  chagrined 


400  MEMOIRS    OF 

him.  He  believed  he  was  treated  with  injustice  "by 
mankind,  whom  he  consequently  was  led  to  despise, 
and  this  feeling  could  not  be  of  any  advantage  to  him. 
What  a  number  of  generous  offers  and  protections  he 
refused!  His  garret  became  dearer  in  his  eyes  than  a 
palace.  Some  discovered  grandeur  of  soul  in  his  con- 
duct, while  others  saw  only  pride  in  it.  At  all  events 
he  was  much  to  be  pitied;  his  weaknesses  did  injury 
to  nobody,  and  his  talents  rendered  him  respectable. 
He  died  as  he  lived,  like  a  philosopher  ;  and  the  repub- 
lic of  letters  is  indebted  to  the  generous  individual  who 
honored  his  ashes. 

In  the  month  of  May,  1771,  the  marriage  of  the  Count 
de  Provence,  the  grandson  of  Louis  XV.,  and  brother 
of  the  dauphin,  with  Maria  Louisa  of  Savoy,  eldest 
daughter  of  the  King  of  Sardinia,  was  celebrated  at 
Versailles.  This  important  event  redoubled  the  joy  of 
the  French,  for  the  prince  in  question  was  beloved  by 
his  country,  and  rendered  himself  still  more  interesting 
by  his  virtues  and  talents  ;  and  the  princess,  from  her 
abilities  and  her  information,  became  the  delight  of 
her  husband. 

In  the  year  1771,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  court  rejoic- 
ings, Madame  Louisa,  daughter  of  Louis  XV.,  quitted 
the  world,  and  shut  herself  up  for  life  in  a  cloister.  She 
selected  the  most  humble  and  austere  of  all  the  orders. 
This  pious  princess  took  the  veil  of  St.  Theresa, 
among  the  Carmelites  of  St.  Denis.  She  had  no  reason 
to  fear  that  the  royal  abode  would  prevent  her  from 
exercising  her  piety  and  her  virtues  ;  but  the  corruption 
of  our  age  required  an  august  example  to  bring  timid 
souls  back  to  the  way  of  perfection,  and  God  made 
choice  of  a  princess  of  the  blood  of  the  Bourbons  for 
their  encouragement. 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  401 


VIL 

I  had  done  nothing  since  the  success  of  my  "  Surly 
Benefactor."  I  said  jokingly,  that  I  wished  to  repose 
on  my  laurels  ;  but  it  was  the  fear  of  not  succeeding  a 
second  time  as  well  as  the  first,  which  prevented  me 
from  satisfying  the  desires  of  my  friends  and  myself. 
At  length  I  yielded  to  the  Solicitations  of  others  and 
my  own  self-love.  I  cast  my  eyes  on  the  "  Ostenta- 
tious Miser,''  a  character  so  frequently  to  he  met  with 
in  nature,  that  I  had  only  to  fear  the  too  great  num- 
ber of  originals.  I  took  my  protagonist  from  among 
the  class  of  upstarts,  to  avoid  the  danger  of  coming  in 
contact  with  the  higher  classes.  This  piece,  which  is 
very  little  known,  and  which  many  people  would  wish 
to  know,  underwent  singular  adventures. 

The  first  person  to  whom  I  showed  it  when  it  was 
fit  to  appear,  was  M.  Preville.  I  had  destined  the 
character  of  the  marquis  for  him,  and  I  was  anxious  to 
have  his  opinion  of  that  character,  and  of  the  whole  of 
my  comedy.  He  seemed  to  me  satisfied  with  both.  I 
observed  to  him  how  difficult  it  would  be  to  represent 
naturally  the  character  he  was  going  to  undertake.  "  I 
am  acquainted,"  said  he,  "with  this  precious  sort  of 
nature."  After  the  encouragement  of  this  valuable  ac- 
tor, I  read  my  piece  to  the  whole  of  the  comedians  as- 
sembled :  it  had  votes  for  and  against,  and  was  received 
subject  to  correction.  I  was  not  accustomed  to  this  sort 
of  reception.  "  However,"  said  I  to  myself,  "  no  pride, 
no  obstinacy."  I  retracted  one  thing  here,  added  an- 
other there,  corrected,  polished,  and  embellished  my 
work.  A  second  reading  took  place,  and  the  piece 
was  received  and  placed  in  the  repertory  for  the  jour- 
ney to  Fontainebleau. 


402  MEMOIRS    OF 

It  was  to  be  acted  among  the  first  at  the  Court  Thea- 
tre. M.  Proville  fell  sick  on  arriving  there:  he  re- 
mained a  month  confined  in  bed,  but  recovered  towards 
the  end  of  the  visit,  and  "The  Ostentatious  Miser" 
was  destined  for  the  eve  of  the  king's  departure.  All 
the  ministers,  strangers,  and  people  in  office  had  taken 
their  departure  :  the  actors  were  fatigued  ;  they  had  no 
great  desire  to  study,  and  still  less  to  rehearse.  I  saw 
the  critical  situation  of  my  piece,  and  very  modestly 
demanded  if  it  were  possible  to  suspend  the  represen- 
tation of  it.  There  were  no  others  on  the  repertory, 
and  I  was  made  to  believe  that  it  could  not  be  dis- 
pensed with. 

I  went  to  the  first  representation,  and  took  my  or- 
dinary position  in  the  bottom  of  the  theatre,  behind 
the  curtain.  So  few  people  were  present,  that  the  fa- 
vorable or  unfavorable  impression  made  by  the  piece 
could  not  be  perceived,  and  it  finished  without  any  sign 
of  either  approbation  or  reprobation.  I  returned  home 
without  seeing  any  one.  Everybody  packed  up  for 
their  departure,  and  T  did  the  same  ;  and  we  all  took 
our  departure  accordingly.  On  the  road  I  had  time 
for  reflection  :  the  freezing  coldness  with  which  my 
work  was  listened  to,  might  proceed  from  the  empti- 
ness of  the  house,  ami  the  circumstances  of  the  moment; 
but  I  saw  that  some  of  the  actors  had  mistaken  their 
characters.  I  have  nothing  to  say  with  respect  to  M. 
Preville,  as  his  part  was  extremely  difficult,  and  he  had 
not  sufficient  time  to  familiarize  himself  with  those 
broken  phrases  which  require  a  deal  of  ingenuity  to 
make  the  audience  comprehend  what  the  actor  does 
not  pronounce.  My  great  fault  was  in  not  remonstrat- 
ing and  using  interest  to  prevent  my  piece  from  being 
acted  at  Fontainebleau.     Thus,  in  recapitulating  my 


CARLO   GOLDONL  403 

mistakes,  I  wrote  to  the  actors  oil  my  arrival  in  Paris, 
and  I  instantly  withdrew  my  piece. 

My  Mends  were  impatiently  desirous  of  seeing  my 

'•  Ostentations  Miser"  on  the  Btage  of  Paris;  and  they 
'.vert-  all  displeased  to  learn  that  I  had  withdrawn  it. 
They  grumbled,  they  solicited,  they  teased  me  to  allow 
it  to  be  again  represented,  and  I  was  informed,  by  way 
of  encouragement,  of  the  number  of  pieces  which, 
though  unfortunate  at  their  first  representation,  after- 
wards recovered.  They  were  in  the  right,  perhaps, 
and  I  should  have  followed  their  advice  and  satisfied 
their  wishes,  if  the  actors  had  given  me  any  reason  to 
think  they  were  desirous  of  again  appearing  in  it  ;  but 
they  were  apparently  as  much  disgusted  with  it  as 
myself:  it  was  horn  under  an  unfortunate  planet,  the 
influence  of  which  I  dreaded.  I  condemned  it,  there- 
fore, to  oblivion,  and  my  rigor  went  so  far  that  I  refused 
it  to  those  persons  who  demanded  a  reading  of  it.  I 
could  not,  however,  resist  the  demand  of  one  of  the 
principal  nobles  of  the  kingdom,  whose  prayers  are 
commands.  I  did  homage  to  him  with  my  comedy, 
the  reading  of  which  was  undertaken  by  a  lady.  She 
acquitted  herself  with  the  facility  and  grace  which  are 
natural  to  her  ;  but  on  the  first  entrance  of  the  mar- 
quis, she  was  taken  by  surprise  at  the  singularity  of 
the  character,  of  which  she  had  not  received  any  pre- 
vious idea. 

M. laid  hold  of  the  original,  and  read  this  and 

all  the  other  scenes  where  this  character  is  introduced, 
with  such  ease  and  precision  that  he  might  have  been 
taken  for  the  author  of  the  work.  1  own  that  I  could 
not  contain  my  joy  and  my  admiration.  Every  person 
was  satisfied  with  the  reading;  I  was  in  a  house  dis- 
tinguished for  kindness  and  attention,  and  I  could 
expect  nothing  but  compliments. 


404  MEMOIRS   OF 

The  marriage  of  the  Count  d 'Artois,  the  brother  of 
Louis  XVI.  with  Maria  Theresa  of  Savoy,  the  daughter 
of  the  King  of  Sardinia  and  the  sister  of  madame,  was 
celebrated  in  the  month  of  November,  1773,  at  Ver- 
sailles. About  this  time  the  Chevalier  John  Mocenigo, 
the  Venetian  ambassador,  came  to  succeed  the  Cheva- 
lier Sebastian  Mocenigo,  his  younger  brother,  whose 
embassy  was  expired.  This  new  minister  of  the  re- 
public was  one  of  my  old  protectors  ;  he  had  given  me 
the  most  undoubted  proofs  of  his  benevolence  ;  he  had 
lodged  me  and  my  family  a  long  time  in  his  house  ; 
and  with  the  Balbi,  the  Quirini,  the  Berengan,  and  the 
Barbarigo  families,  he  protected  my  first  Florence  edi- 
tion, and  facilitated  its  entrance  into  the  city  of  Venice, 
notwithstanding  the  barbarous  war  earned  on  against 
me  by  the  booksellers.  I  received  a  fresh  mark  of  his 
kindness  for  me  on  the  occasion  of  his  marriage  with 
the  niece  of  the  Doge  Loredan,  when  he  wrote  me  the 
following  note  : — 

"  The  most  serene  Doge  has  permitted  me  to  invite  a  few  of 
my  friends  to  the  nuptials  ;  you  are  of  the  numher;  I  request 
your  presence  ;  you  will  find  your  place." 

I  did  not  fail.  There  was  a  table  for  a  hundred 
guests  in  the  banqueting-hall,  and  another  for  twenty- 
four,  the  honors  of  which  were  done  by  the  Doge's 
nephew;  I  was  of  the  last  party;  but  at  the  second 
course  we  all  quitted  our  place  and  repaired  to  the  great 
hall,  making  the  tour  of  that  immense  apartment,  and 
seating  ourselves  behind  one  another.  I  in  particular 
enjoyed  the  kindness  which  was  lavished  on  an  author 
who  had  been  so  fortunate  as  to  give  pleasure. 

I  have  always  felt  a  kindness  for  my  countrymen, 
and  welcomed  them  to  my  house.  I  have  more  than 
once  been  deceived,  it  is  true,  but  unprincipled  individ- 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  405 

uals  have  never  disgusted  me  with  the  pleasure  of  ren- 
dering myself  useful  ;  and  I  natter  myself  that  no  Ital- 
ian ever  went  away  from  me  dissatisfied.  Enchanted 
with  being  in  France,  I  love  to  converse  from  time  to 
time  with  the  people  of  my  own  country,  or  Frenchmen 
who  can  speak  Italian. 

Our  Italian  literature  is  very  much  relished  in  France, 
and  our  hooks  well  received  and  paid  for  ;  the  libraries 
of  Paris  are  stocked  with  them.  The  late  M.  Floncel 
possessed  a  library  of  sixteen  thousand  volumes,  all  in 
the  Italian  language.  M.  Molini,  an  Italian  bookseller 
in  the  capital,  carries  on  a  considerable  trade  in  Italian 
books.  The  number  of  copies  of  my  comedies  sold  in 
this  country  is  prodigious  ;  and  the  eagerness  displayed 
in  subscribing  to  the  new  and  superb  edition  of  the 
works  of  Metastasio  is  still  more  so. 

To  the  joy  diffused  by  the  marriage  of  the  three 
princes  throughout  the  kingdom,  the  most  gloomy  sad- 
ness succeeded.  Louis  XV.  feimij  the  small-pox  soon 
broke  out  ;  the  kind  was  the  most  malignant  and  com- 
plicated, and  this  king,  who  possessed  the  most  vigor- 
ous and  excellent  constitution,  fell  a  victim  to  the 
violence  of  this  scourge  to  mankind.  What  an  afflic- 
tion for  France,  which  had  conferred  on  him  the  title 
of  "  Well-beloved  "  !  What  a  desolation  for  his  family, 
by  whom  he  was  adored  !  What  a  loss  for  his  old  ser- 
vants, who  were  more  attached  to  him  through  senti- 
ment than  duty  !  He  was  the  most  forgiving  king,  the 
most  tender  father,  and  the  kindest  master  ;  the  quali- 
ties of  his  heart  were  excellent,  and  his  mental  advan- 
tages were  great.  But  Providence  has  given  him  a 
successor  possessed  of  numerous  virtues.  Goodness, 
justice,  clemency,  benevolence,  are  duties  imposed  on 
all  those  whom  God  has  destined  for  the  government 


406  MEMOIRS   OF 

of  mankind  :  it  is  his  personal  qualities  for  which  he  is 
chieîly  distinguished;  his  merits,  his  correct  conduct, 
his  zeal  for  the  public  good,  and  for  the  peace  and  tran- 
quillity of  Europe:  his  religion  and  moderation,  the 
probity  which  he  exacts,  the  example  which  he  gives. 
—  these  are  rare  virtues,  and  much  more  esseutially  use- 
ful to  the  state  than  the  spirit  of  conquest  :  they  are 
inexhaustible  sources  of  praise  and  immortal  glory. 

Alas  !  what  vicissitudes  in  human  life  !  Here  I  am 
obliged  to  commemorate  a  fresh  subject  of  dread  and 
grief.  The  three  daughters  of  Louis  XV.,  who  never 
quitted  their  father's  bed  during  his  illness,  began  to 
display  the  same  symptoms,  and  incur  the  same  danger. 
These  princesses  were  too  interesting  not  to  excite  a 
general  alarm  respecting  their  situation.  God  preserved 
them  to  us  ;  God  snatched  from  the  arms  of  death  this 
heroic  example  of  filial  love.  The  princesses  passed 
the  period  of  their  convalescence  at  Choisi.  I  partici- 
pated in  the  general  grief  at  this  melancholy  conjuncture, 
and  I  went  in  their  train  to  breathe  the  salutary  air  of 
that  delightful  place. 

On  returning  to  Paris,  I  heard  of  a  projected  mar- 
riage between  Madame  Çlotilde,  the  sister  of  the  King 
of  France,  and  the  Prince  of  Piedmont,  the  presump- 
tive heir  of  the  crown  of  Sardinia.  This  piece  of  news 
was  very  interesting  to  me,  and  I  went  to  A'ersailles 
for  the  sake  of  being  better  informed  respecting  it.  The 
account  was  verified,  but  a  mysterious  silence  was  ob- 
served, and  it  was  not  till  seven  mouths  before  the  mar- 
riage that  I  received  orders  to  attend  on  the  princess, 
for  the  sake  of  giving  her  some  instruction  in  the  Italian 
language.  I  obeyed  ;  but  what  could  she  learn  in  the 
space  of  seven  months  ?  I  took  care  not  to  proceed  in 
the  common  way  with  her.     She  was  well  acquainted 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  407 

with  the  French  grammar,  and  T  only  taught  her  the 
auxiliary  verbe  of  the  Italian.  I  made  her  read  a  great 
deal;  the  remarks  and  short  digressions  which  I  inter- 
mixed with  this  reading  were  of  more  ose  to  her,  in  my 
opinion,  than  along  catalogue  of  rules  and  seholastie 
difficulties. 

My  readings  had  still  a  more  important  and  interest- 
ing tendency  :  I  made  her  acquainted  with  the  classical 
Italian  authors  by  name,  related  anecdotes  respecting 
them,  and  mentioned  the  titles  of  their  works  ;  and  I 
endeavored  to  instruct  her  in  the  Italian  manners  and 
customs.  This  kind  and  complaisant  princess  had  a 
wonderful  facility  in  learning,  and  a  very  excellent 
memory.  I  went  every  day,  and  she  made  an  aston- 
ishing progress  :  but  xmr  conferences  were  frequently 
interrupted  by  jeweliers,  dealers  in  trinkets,  painters, 
and  shopkeepers.  Sometimes  I  entered  the  room  to 
witness  the  choice  of  stuffs,  the  price  paid  for  jewels, 
and  the  resemblance  of  the  portraits.  1  endeavored  to 
derive  some  advantage  from  these  very  inconveniences; 
I  made  her  repeat  in  Italian  the  names  of  what  she  had 
seen,  what  she  had  priced,  and  what  she  purchased  or 
refused. 

We  had  other  circumstances  to  call  off  our  attention, 
—  a  journey  to  Rheims,  for  the  consecration  of  the 
king,  and  the  birth  of  the  Duke  d'Àngoulême.  This 
prince,  son  to  the  Count  d'Artois,  was  the  first  fruit  of 
the  three  marriages  of  the  French  princes,  and,  as  his 
birth  could  not  fail  to  be  interesting  to  the  state,  the 
rejoicings  were  proportionate  to  the  public  joy.  My 
august  scholar,  notwithstanding  all  these  interruptions, 
contrived  to  turn  her  time  to  considerable  profit  She 
pronounced  Italian  tolerably  well,  and  read  it  still  bet- 
ter.    She  could  read  and  understand  the  epithalamiums 


408  MEMOIRS    OF 

destined  for  her  by  the  Piedmontese  poets.  The  mar- 
riage was  celebrated  by  deputy  towards  the  end  of 
August,  17T5.  in  the  chapel  of  Versailles.  The  publie 
rejoicings  were  super!»  and  magnificent     The  princess 

departed,  universally  adored  and  regretted.  All  who 
had  ever  served,  or  approached  her  presence,  received 
marks  of  her  goodness.  It  is  not  extraordinary  that 
in  so  great  a  crowd  some  one  should  be  forgotten  ;  but 
it  was  unfortunate  that  this  accident  should  happen 
to  me. 

With  respect  to  my  services  and  expenses,  I  de- 
manded nothing,  and  I  received  nothing,  but  still  I  was 
persuaded  that  I  should  not  be  a  loser.  I  kept  myself 
quiet,  therefore,  and  said  nothing.  Persons  who  inter- 
ested themselves  in  my  affairs  grew  impatient  at  my 
silence,  and  took  steps  to  know  the  course  I  ought  to 
adopt.  They  had  more  penetration  than  myself,  and 
their  mediation  was  of  great  utility  to  me.  It  was  be- 
lieved at  court  that  my  pension  of  thirty-six  hundred 
livres  obliged  me  to  serve  the  whole  royal  family.  They 
were  not  aware  that  it  was  given  me  by  way  of  recom- 
pense for  having  taught  Italian  to  the  princesses.  Those 
who  were  intrusted  with  the  outlays  for  the  princess  of 
Piedmont  were  convinced  that  I  deserved  to  be  recom- 
pensed ;  but  the  affairs  relating  to  that  princess  Mere 
settled  :  the  only  recourse  was  to  wait  in  patience  :  I 
was  to  be  employed  for  Madame  Elizabeth  and  the  sister 
of  the  king,  and  this  was  the  occasion  for  which  I 
ought  to  reserve  my  demands. 

I  waited  long,  and  still  kept  my  apartments  at  Ver- 
sailles. The  day  at  length  came  when  I  received 
orders  to  wait  on  the  Princess  Elizabeth.  This  young, 
lively,  gay,  and  amiable  princess  was  of  an  age  much 
more  inclined  to  amusement  than  application.     I  had 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  409 

been  present  at  the  Latin  lessons  which  were  given  to 
her,  and  I  perceived  that  she  possessed  a  great  faculty 
in  learning  anything,  hut  that  she  disliked  to  dwell  on 
minute  and  trilling  difficulties.  I  followed,  with  very 
little  variation,  the  mode  adopted  by  me  with  the 
Princess  of  Piedmont  ;  I  did  not  torment  her  with 
declinations  and  conjugations  calculated  to  disgust  her  ; 
she  wished  to  make  an  amusement  of  her  occupation, 
and  I  endeavored  to  make  my  lessons  agreeable  con- 
versations. When  my  comedies  were  read,  in  the 
scenes  of  two  characters,  the  princess  and  her  maid  of 
honor  read  and  translated  each  their  part  ;  and  when 
there  were  three  characters  a  lady  of  the  company 
took  the  third.  I  translated  the  others  when  there 
happened  to  be  moror  This  exercise  was  useful  and 
amusing  ;  but  can  we  flatter  ourselves  that  young  peo- 
ple will  long  be  amused  with  the  same  thing  f  "We 
passed  from  prose  to  verse.  Metastasio  occupied  my 
august  scholar  for  some  time.  I  endeavored  to  satisfy 
lier,  and  she  was  deserving  of  it  ;  for  it  was  the  most 
gentle  and  agreeable  service  in  the  world. 

I  was  growing  old,  however  ;  the  air  of  Versailles 
did  not  agree  with  me  ;  the  winds  which  prevail  there, 
and  which  blow  almost  without  intermission,  attacked 
my  nerves,  excited  my  old  hypochondria,  and  subjected 
me  to  palpitations.  I  was  forced  to  quit  the  court,  and 
return  to  Paris,  where  the  air  we  breathe  is  less  keen, 
and  is  more  suitable  to  my  temperament.  My  nephew, 
though  employed  in  the  war-office,  could  succeed  me  ; 
he  had  done  so  with  the  princesses,  and  I  was  certain 
of  the  goodness  of  Madame  Elizabeth.  This  was  the 
time  to  settle  my  affairs,  and  1  did  not  forget  myself  on 
the  occasion.  1  presented  a  bill  to  the  king,  whieh 
Mas  patronized  by  the  princesses.  The  queen  had  even 


410  MEMOIRS   OF 

the  goodness  to  interest  herself  for  me,  and  the  king 
granted  me  an  extraordinary  gratification  of  six  thou- 
sand livres,  and  an  annuity  of  twelve  hundred  livres 
during  the  life  of  myself  and  nephew. 

VIII. 

In  the  year  1777  a  new  comic  opera  was  demanded 
from  me  for  Venice.  I  had  resolved  not  to  compose 
any  more,  but,  imagining  that  the  same  work  might 
be  of  utility  to  me  at  Paris,  I  consented  to  satisfy  my 
friends,  and  composed  a  piece  calculated  to  please  in 
an  equal  degree  the  two  nations.  Its  title  was  "  I 
Volponi  n  (The  Foxes).  They  were  courtiers  jealous 
of  a  stranger,  to  whom  they  showed  a  vast  deal  of 
politeness,  by  way  of  amusing  him,  while  they  plotted 
his  ruin.  This  piece  contained  interest,  intrigue,  and 
gayety,  and  inculcated  an  important  moral  lesson. 

It  was  then  in  agitation  to  bring  to  Paris  the  actors 
of  the  Italian  comic  opera,  whom  we  call  I  Buffi,  and 
who  are  here  Buffoons  (Bouffons).  This  expression 
would  be  considered  as  insulting  in  Italy,  but  it  is  not 
so  in  France.  It  is  merely  a  bad  translation.  The 
music  of  the  good  daughter  of  M.  Piccini  of  the  colony 
of  M.  Sacchini,  and  the  progress  which  the  taste  for 
Italian  singing  made  every  day  at  Paris,  determined 
the  directors  of  the  opera  to  introduce  this  foreign  en- 
tertainment, which  was  represented  on  the  great  theatre 
of  this  city.  I  was  intimately  flattered  with  this  pro- 
ject, and  I  had  the  temerity  to  believe  myself  necessary 
to  its  execution.  Nobody  knew  more  of  the  Italian 
comic  opera  than  myself.  I  was  aware  that  for  several 
years  nothing  had  been  given  in  Italy  but  farces,  of 
which  the  music  was  excellent  and  the  poetry  wretched. 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  411 

I  saw  what  was  wanting  to  render  this  entertainment 
agreeable  at  Paris.  New  words  were  wanting,  new 
dramas  in  the  French  taste.  I  had  performed  this 
task  more  than  once  for  London,  and  I  was  secure  of 
my  purpose,  Nobody  can  be  more  useful  than  myself 
on  a  similar  occasion.  I  knew  from  experience  how 
dime  alt  and  laborious  this  work  was;  hut  I  should 
have  applied  to  it  with  infinite  pleasure  for  the  sake  of 
the  thing  itself,  and  the  honor  of  my  nation.  Besides, 
there  was  every  reason  to  suppose  that,  if  the  opera  of 
Paris  sent  for  foreign  actors,  they  would  not  be  eon- 
tented  with  their  old  music,  but  would  employ  M.  Pic- 
cini,  who  was  here,  or  M.  Saccbini,  who  was  at  London, 
in  the  composition  of  new. 

I  kept  my  comic  opera  therefore  in  readiness,  and  I 
was  almost  certain  that  I  should  he  employed  in  the 
composition  of  others  ;  for  I  did  not  think  it  suitable 
to  the  dignity  of  the  principal  theatre  of  this  nation  to 
entertain  the  public  for  a  length  of  time  with  the  music 
which  had  been  already  sung  in  the  concerts  and  parties 
of  Paris.  I  was  in  expectation,  therefore,  of  being 
spoken  to,  consulted,  and  engaged.  Alas  !  nobody 
ever  said  a  word  to  me  on  the  subject.  The  Italian 
actors  arrived  at  Paris.  I  knew  some  of  them,  but  I 
did  not  go  to  see  them.  I  was  not  present  at  their  de- 
but. Some  of  them  were  good,  and  some  indifferent  ; 
their  music  was  excellent  ;  but  the  entertainment  did 
not  succeed,  as  I  had  fi  treseen,  on  account  of  the  dramas, 
which  were  of  a  nature  to  displease  the  French  and  to 
dishonor  Italy. 

My  self-love  might  have  been  flattered  at  seeing  my 
prediction  verified,  but  I  was  in  reality  very  much  dis- 
tressed at  it.  1  was  too  meat  a  lover  of  the  comic 
opera,  and  I  should  have  heeu  enchanted  to  have  heard 


412  MEMOIRS    OF 

Italian  music  to  Italian  words  ;  but  then  such  words 
were  requisite  as  could  be  read  with  pleasure,  and 
translated  into  French  without  a  blush.  Translations 
of  these  wretched  operas  were  printed  and  published. 
The  best  translation  was  the  most  insupportable  ;  for 
the  more  accurately  the  translators  endeavored  to  render 
their  text,  the  more  the  dulness  of  the  originals  be- 
came evident.  I  supposed  this  Italian  company  would 
leave  the  place  at  the  close  of  the  year  ;  but  their  en- 
gagement was  probably  for  two,  and  they  remained  all 
the  following  year.  During  this  second  year  they  did 
me  the  honor  to  bring  me  one  of  their  wretched  dramas 
to  patch  up  :  but  it  was  too  late,  the  evil  was  done, 
and  this  species  of  entertainment  was  cried  down.  I 
might  have  supported  it  in  its  beginning,  but  I  did  not 
believe  it  was  in  my  power  to  raise  it  after  the  crisis 
which  it  had  experienced. 

I  must  also  own  that  I  was  piqued  at  having  been 
forgotten  at  the  proper  moment.  I  do  not  recollect 
having  for  a  long  time  experienced  a  similar  degree  of 
mortification.  Some  said,  by  way  of  consolation,  that 
the  directors  of  the  opera  thought  this  employment 
beneath  me.  The  directors  knew  nothing  of  the  mat- 
ter they  had  in  hand  ;  if  they  had  had  the  goodness  to 
have  consulted  me,  I  should  have  shown  them  that 
they  wanted  an  author  and  not  a  cobbler.  Others  told 
me  (perhaps  without  any  foundation  for  saying  so)  that 
it  was  feared  Goldoni  would  be  too  dear.  I  should 
have  labored  for  the  honor  of  the  thing,  had  they  known 
how  to  go  to  work  with  me  ;  I  should  have  been  high- 
priced  had  they  haggled  with  me;  but  my  labors  would 
have  indemnified  them  :  and  I  think  I  may  venture  to 
say  that  this  entertainment  would  have  been  still  in 
existence  at  Paris. 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  413 

In  the  month  of  January,  1778,  there  were  rejoicings 
at  court  and  in  the  city  for  the  birth  of  the  Duke 
of  Berry,  son  of  the  Count  d'Artois.  But  what  was 
the  joy  of  the  French  when  the  pregnancy  of  the  queen 
was  declared  the  same  year  !  She  was  delivered  in  the 
month  of  December  of  a  princess,  who  was  instantly 
named  Maria  Theresa  Charlotte  of  France,  with  the 
title  of  madame,  the  daughter  of  the  king.  This  first 
fruit  of  the  king's  marriage  was  considered  as  the  pre- 
cursor of  the  dauphin,  who  was  impatiently  expected, 
and  who,  after  three  years,  crowned  at  last  the  wishes 
of  the  French.  The  rejoicings  on  this  occasion,  and 
on  the  queen's  recovery,  corresponded  with  the  circum- 
stances of  the  times.  France  was  then  engaged  in  a 
war  which  she  did  "not  provoke,  but  which  she  was 
obliged  to  continue  for  the  honor  of  the  nation  — 

Alas  !  I  am  seized  with  a  violent  palpitation  this 
very  moment,  — this  is  an  habitual  ailment  with  me,  I 
cannot  go  on  — 

I  resume  the  chapter  which  I  left  off  yesterday.  My 
palpitation  has  been  more  vehement  and  of  longer  du- 
ration this  time  than  usual.  It  attacked  me  at  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  did  not  leave  me  till 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning.  The  palpitation  is  not 
periodical  ;  it  attacks  me  several  times  in  the  year,  in 
all  seasons,  and  at  ail  times,  sometimes  when  fasting, 
sometimes  at  dinner,  sometimes  after  dinner,  and  very 
rarely  during  the  night.  But  what  is  most  singular  in 
its  symptoms,  I  feel  when  it  is  coming  on  a  commotion 
in  my  bowels,  my  pulse  rises  and  beats  with  alarming 
violence,  my  muscles  are  in  convulsion,  and  my  breast 

is  oppressed. 

I  feel  when  it  is  going  to  stop  a  beating  in  my  head, 
and  my-  pulse  gradually  returns  to  its  natural  state. 


414  MEMOIRS   OF 

There  are  no  gradations  in  the  attacks  or  in  the  cessa- 
tion. It  is  an  inconceivable  phenomenon,  which  can 
be  explained  by  a  comparison  with  swooning. 

Accustomed  to  this  infirmity,  which  is  more  alarm- 
ing than  painful,  I  learned  to  bear  it  without  dread, 
and,  by  way  of  drawing  my  attention  from  it,  I  gen- 
erally continued  my  dinner  if  it  attacked  me  at  table, 
or  continued  my  game  if  taken  by  surprise  in  com- 
pany. Nobody  perceived  the  state  I  was  in,  and  as 
at  my  age  we  must  learn  to  put  up  with  our  enemies, 
I  made  no  attempts  to  get  cured,  lest  in  endeavoring 
to  avoid  the  Gulf  of  Scylla,  I  should  fall  into  that  of 
Charybdis.  But  I  was  seized  with  a  palpitation  of 
thirty-six  hours'  continuance  about  four  years  ago,  and 
this  appearing  in  rather  a  serious  light  to  me,  I  had 
recourse  to  my  physician.  Af.  Guilbert  de  Preval,  the 
regent  of  the  College  of  Physicians  of  Paris,  stopped 
it  instantly,  and  without  giving  me  anything  which 
could  at  all  derange  my  system  ;  he  merely  retarded 
the  attacks  in  future,  and  diminished  the  duration  of 
them.  M.  Preval  has  made  himself  enemies  in  the 
body  to  which  he  belongs.  It  is  said  that  there  is  a 
law  aim  rag  them  that  no  member  of  their  society  shall 
make  use  of  new  remedies  without  communicating 
them  to  his  brethren.  This  M.  Preval  has  not  done, 
through  fear  perhaps  lest  his  remedy  should  become 
useless,  like  so  many  others  in  the  hands  of  everybody. 
He  distributes  it  in  his  house.  The  poor  are  there 
relieved,  and  the  rich  are  not  subjected  to  extortion. 
Happy  the  man.  it  is  said,  whoso  physician  is  his 
friend.  M.  Preval  is  the  friend  of  all  his  patients,  as 
he  is  the  friend  of  humanity. 


CARLO   GOLDOXI.  415 


IX. 


On  leaving  Venice  I  left  my  niece  in  a  convent 
there.  On  attaining  the  age  of  twenty,  an  age  when 
it  became  necessary  to  decide  whether  she  chose  the 
cloister  or  to  mix  in  the  world,  I  interrogated  her 
from  time  to  time  in  my  letters  respecting  lier  inclina- 
tions. She  professed  to  have  no  other  will  than  mine. 
As  I  had  no  wish  hut  to  satisfy  her,  I  thought  there 
was  something  mysterious  concealed  under  this  sem- 
blance  of  modesty,  and  I  requested  one  of  my  pro- 
tectors to  have  the  goodness  to  sound  her  with  address. 

All  that  he  could  draw  from  her  was,  that  so  long 
as  she  was  in  chains  she  would  never  communicate 
her  way  of  thinking.  From  this  I  conjectured  that  she 
was  not  fond  of  the  convent.  So  much  the  better:  I 
possessed  only  entailed  property,  which  may  he  given 
as  a  portion,  hut  the  nuns  take  nothing  hut  ready 
money. 

I  wrote  a  letter  to  the  lady  at  the  head  of  the  con- 
vent ;  and  the  senator  to  whom  I  intrusted  it  went 
with  his  lady  to  the  convent  and  brought  her  away 
with  them  to  their  house.  When  there,  she  did  not 
express  herself  in  the  clearest  terms  ;  but,  however,  as 
much  so  as  her  modesty  would  permit.  She  did  not 
wish  to  be  married,  but  she  disliked  the  convent. 

My  niece  could  not  long  remain  in  a  patrician 
family,  and  she  was  boarded  in  a  very  prudent  and 
respectable  one.  M.  Chiaruzzi,  the  landlord  of  Made- 
moiselle Groldoni,  took  care  of  my  affairs  at  the  same 
time  and  his  wife  attended  to  those  of  the  young  woman. 
In  two  years  his  wife  died,  and  the  husband  demanded 
my  niece  in   marriage.     She  seemed   satisfied,   and   I 


416  MEMOIRS   OF 

was  completely  so  :  my  nephew  and  myself  assigned 
to  him  all  our  Italian  property,  and  we  set  our  hands 
to  the  necessary  writings  before  M.  Lormeau,  a  notary 
at  Paris.  The  signature  of  a  man  of  his  probity  was 
a  lucky  omen  to  the  new  couple  ;  and  in  reality  the 
marriage  turned  out  very  happy. 

This  event  was  necessary  for  my  tranquillity.  I 
had  taken  the  charge  of  the  two  children  of  my  brother. 
I  saw  my  nephew  in  a  tolerable  situation  under  my- 
self, and  I  was  glad  to  see  my  niece  settled.  My 
satisfaction  would  have  been  at  its  height  if  I  could 
have  been  present  at  the  marriage  ;  but  I  was  too  old 
for  a  journey  of  three  hundred  leagues. 

I  am  well,  thank  God;  but  I  require  precautions 
for  my  strength  and  health.  I  read  every  day,  and 
consult  attentively  the  "  Treatise  on  Old  Age,"  by  M. 
Robert,  doctor-regent  of  the  faculty  of  Paris. 

Our  physicians  in  general  take  care  of  us  when  we 
are  unwell,  and  endeavor  to  cure  us  ;  but  they  do  not 
embarrass  themselves  with  our  regimen  when  we  are 
in  good  health.  From  this  book  I  derived  instruction 
and  correction.  It  showed  me  the  degree  of  vigor 
which  I  might  still  possess,  and  the  necessity  of  taking 
care  of  it.  The  work  is  composed  in  the  form  of 
letters;  when  I  read  it,  I  imagined  the  author  speak- 
ing to  me  :  in  every  page,  I  fall  in  with  and  recognize 
myself;  the  advices  are  salutary  without  being  bur- 
densome :  li*j  is  not  so  severe  as  the  school  of  Salerno, 
and  does  not  prescribe  the  regimen  of  Louis  Cornaro, 
who  lived  a  hundred  years  as  a  valetudinary  that  he 
might  die  in  good  health. 

M.  Robert  is  a  very  wise  and  intelligent  man;  he  is 
one  of  those  who  have  studied  Nature  with  the  utmost 
attention,  and  best   know  her  course.     I  became  ac- 


CARLO  GOLDOXI.  417 

quainted  with  him  at  the  house  of  M.  Fagnan,  one  of 
the  principal  secretaries  of  the  royal  treasury,  where 
we  frequently  met  one  another;  and  Madame  Fagnan, 
his  widow,  who  is  possessed  of  talents,  graces,  and 
good  sense,  still  continues  to  receive  the  intimate  friends 
of  her  husband  with  the  same  cordiality. 

An  interesting  discovery  was  made  at  this  time. 
M.  de  Montgolfier  was  the  first  who  darted  a  globe 
into  the  air.  The  globe  rose  higher  than  the  eye  could 
reach,  at  the  mercy  of  the  winds,  and  supported  itself 
till  the  extinction  of  the  name  and  smoke  by  which  it 
was  fed.  This  first  experiment  gave  rise  to  other 
speculations.  M.  Charles,  a  very  learned  physician, 
employed  inflammable  air.  The  globes  filled  with  this 
gas  require  no  management  to  preserve  them  for  a 
greater  length  of  time,  and  are  secure  from  catching 
fire.  There  were  men  possessed  of  sufficient  courage 
to  confide  their  lives  to  the  curds  which  supported  a  sort 
of  basket,  and  who  allowed  themselves  to  be  fastened 
to  the  frail  balloon,  subject  to  evident  danger  and 
events  impossible  to  be  foreseen.  The  Marquis  d'Ar- 
landi  and  M.  Pilastre  de  Rosier  made  the  first  attempt, 
according  to  the  method  of  M.  de  Montgolfier;  and 
M.  Charles  shortly  afterwards  took  flight  himself,  by 
means  of  his  inflammable  air. 

I  could  not  look  at  them  without  trembling.  Be- 
sides, what  was  the  use  of  all  this  risk  and  courage  ! 
If  we  can  only  fly  at  the  mercy  of  the  wind,  and  can- 
not direct  the  machine,  the  discovery,  however  admi- 
rable, will  remain  of  no  utility,  and  a  mere  plaything. 

The  rage  of  discoveries  has  taken  possession  of  the 
minds  of  the  Parisians  to  such  a  violent  degree  that 
they  run  after  everything  miraculous.  Some  time  ago 
there  was  a  belief  in  the  existence  of  somnambulists, 


418  MEMOIES   OF 

Who  spoke  sensibly,  and  to  the  purpose,  with  persons 
awake,  and  had  the  faculty  of  divining  the  past  and 
for» îseein y  the  future.  This  illusion  did  not  make  any 
great  progress:  but  there  was  another  almost  at  the 
same  time  which  imposed  on  all  Paris. 

A  letter  dated  from  Lyons  announced  a  man  who 
had  f<»und  out  a  way  to  walk  on  water  dry-fo<>ted.  and 
proposed  to  make  the  experiment  in  the  capital.  He 
demanded  a  subscription  to  indemnify  him  for  his  ex- 
penses and  trouble  ;  the  subscription  was  instantly 
filled  up,  and  the  day  fixed  on  for  his  crossing  the 
Seine.  This  man  did  not  make  his  appearance  on  the 
day  fixed  for  that  purpose,  and  pretexts  were  found  for 
prolonging  the  farce.  It  was  at  length  discovered  that 
a  wag  of  Lyons  had  taken  this  way  of  amusing  himself 
with  the  credulity  of  the  inhabitants  of  Paris.  His 
intention  was  not  apparently  to  insult  a  city  of  eight 
hundred  thousand  inhabitants  ;  and  we  may  suppose 
he  assigned  good  reasons,  by  way  of  excuse,  for  the 
joke,  as  nothing  serious  happened  to  him.  What  in- 
duced the  Parisians  to  believe  in  this  invention  was 
the  "■  Journal  de  Paris."  which  announced  it  as  a  truth 
confirmed  by  experiments.  The  authors  of  this  jour- 
nal were  themselves  deceived,  and  justified  themselves 
amply  in  publishing  the  letters  by  which  they  were 
imposed  ou.  witli  the  names  of  those  who  wrote  and 
addressed  them  to  their  office.  Three  years  afterwards 
a  stranger  came  to  Paris  who  in  reality,  in  the  sight 
of  au  immense  number  of  people,  crossed  the  river 
dry-footed.  This  man  made  a  mystery  of  the  means 
employed  by  him  in  his  experiment.  He  carefully  con- 
cealed the  shoes  used  by  him  in  cr<»ssing.  Probably 
he  wished  to  sell  his  secret  at  a  high  price;  but  the 
small  advantages  which  could  be  derived  from  it  did 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  419 

not  seem  to  deserve  the  trouble.  It  is  not  unlikely 
that  he  had  beneath  his  two  feet  something  of  the  shape 
of  a  boat  or  canoe.  We  may  find  1  ><  »at^  at  all  rivers 
where  we  want  to  cross  them.  We  seldom  require  any 
extraordinary  assistance  for  this  purpose  :  and  when 
we  do  we  cannot  always  carry  about  with  us  these 
machines,  which  are  neither  light  nor  of  easy  carriage. 
This  experiment,  however,  afforded  a  fresh  justification 
to  the  authors  of  the  "  Journal  de  Paris,"  who  had  fore- 
Been  the  possibility  of  this  discovery. 

X. 

I  AM  now  drawing  near  to  the  conclusion  of  my 
Memoirs,  and  I  support  with  courage  the  fatigue  of  a 
task  which  begins  to  weary  me  ;  but  a  fatal  event, 
which  it  is  now  incumbent  on  me  to  mention  in  this 
place,  makes  me  feel  the  disagreeable  nature  of  the 
burden  which  I  have  imposed  on  myself. 

In  the  year  l/eo"  Madame  Sophia  of  France  departed 
this  life.  What  a  loss  for  the  court  !  What  an  afflic- 
tion for  her  affectionate  sisters  !  Her  virtues  rendered 
her  respectable,  and  her  gentleness  of  disposition  in- 
spired all  who  knew  her  with  love  and  confidence. 
Her  benevolent  heart  anticipated  the  wants  of  indi- 
gence, and  she  made  incredible  efforts  to  conceal  her 
wit  under  the  veil  of  piety  and  modesty.  This  princess 
was  lamented  and  regretted  by  all  who  had  the  honor 
of  approaching  her,  and  by  myself  not  less  than  others. 
I  found  some  consolation  with  Madame  Tacher  and  the 
Marchioness  of  Chabot,  her  daughter,  who  had  the 
same  cause  for  affliction  that  I  had.  The  conversation 
of  these  ladies  renewed  the  memory  of  my  loss,  and 
their  kindness  for  me  alleviated  my  grief. 


420  MEMOIRS    OF 

It  is  not,  however,  usual  -with  me  to  be  affected  in 
the  keenest  manner  at  the  death  of  my  friends  or 
relations.  I  possess  a  feeling  disposition;  and  the 
smallest  ailment,  the  slightest  inconvenience  which 
happens  to  them,  affects  and  grieves  me  in  the  extreme; 
whereas  I  look  coolly  on  death  as  the  tribute  we  owe 
to  nature,  and  against  which  we  must  derive  consola- 
tion in  our  reason.  How  happens  it  then  that  I  am 
still  as  much  afflicted  for  the  loss  of  my  august  scholan 
as  the  first  day  afterwards  ?  In  the  justice  which  I 
render  to  merit,  am  I  to  be  suspected  of  self-love  or 
vanity?  Alas  !  my  friends  do  me  the  favor  to  believe 
that  it  proceeds  rather  from  gratitude. 

In  the  year  1783  the  opera  of  "Dido,"  written  by 
M.  Marmontel,  and  set  to  music  by  M.  Piccini,  was 
represented  for  the  first  time.  It  is,  in  my  opinion, 
the  masterpiece  of  the  one  and  the  triumph  of  the 
other.  Xo  musical  drama  approaches  nearer  to  real 
tragedy  than  this.  M.  Marm<  >ntel  has  imitated  nobody  ; 
he  has  appropriated  the  fable  to  himself,  and  given  it 
all  the  probability  and  regularity  of  which  such  a  work 
is  susceptible.  Some  say  that  Marmontel  took  his 
drama  from  Metastasis  >,  but  they  are  mistaken.  "  Dido  " 
was  the  first  work  of  the  Italian  poet  ;  we  discover  in 
it  strong  marks  of  a  superior  genius,  but  we  may  re- 
mark at  the  same  time  the  errors  of  youth  ;  and  the 
French  author  would  not  have  succeeded  had  he  en- 
deavored to  imitate  it. 

"  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  had  the  greatest  success 
at  the  French  Theatre,  because  the  author  put  before 
this  title  that  of  "  The  Frolicsome  Day  "  (Folle  Jour- 
née). Nobody  is  better  acquainted  with  the  defects  of 
his  piece  than  M.  Beaumarchais  himself;  he  has  given 
proof  of  his  talents  in  this  department  ;  and  had  he 


CARLO    GOLDONI.  421 

wished  to  make  a  regular  comedy  of  his  "  Figaro,"  he 
would  have  succeeded  as  well  as  another  :  but  he 
merely  attempted  to  divert  the  public  ;  and  this  object 
he  completely  attained.  The  success  of  this  comedy 
was  extraordinary  in  every  respect.  At  the  comic 
theatres  of  Paris  two  or  three  pieces  are  regularly  acted 
every  day;  hut  "Figaro"  constituted  the  sole  enter- 
tainment :  the  puhlic  flocked  to  it  two  or  three  hours 
before  the  drawing  up  of  the  curtain,  aud  waited  three 
quarters  of  an  hour  later  than  ordinary  without  being 
wearied  or  betraying  the  slightest  symptoms  of  discon- 
tent. It  is  now  at  its  eighty-sixth  representation,  and 
is  applauded  as  much  as  ever  ;  and  what  is  most  sin- 
gular, those  very  persons-who  criticise  it  at  leaving  the 
theatre  are  the  first  to  return  and  to  amuse  themselves 
with  what  they  have  been  censuring. 

M.  de  Beaumarchais  gave,  some  years  before,  a 
comedy  entitled  u  The  Barber  of  Seville,"  and  the 
same  Spaniard  who  bore  the  name  of  u  Figaro,"  con- 
stituted the  principal  subject  of  "  The  Frolicsome  Day." 
The  former  of  these  two  pieces  was  highly  relished  and 
applauded.  The  author  had  been  implicated  in  a  law- 
suit, and  defended  his  cause  himself;  the  papers  writ- 
ten by  him  were  gay,  droll,  and  excellently  composed  ; 
they  were  universally  read,  and  the  general  subject  of 
conversation.  He  had  the  address  to  insert  in  "The 
Barber  of  Seville,"  under  feigned  names,  anecdotes 
which  recalled  the  memory  of  his  lawsuit,  and  covered 
his  adversaries  with  ridicule  ;  all  which  contributed 
very  much  to  the  success  of  his  piece.  In  "  The  Mar- 
riage of  Figaro"  there  were  no  sarcasms  levelled  against 
individuals,  but  an  abundance  against  all  descriptions 
of  people.  Nobody,  however,  could  complain,  as  the 
criticisms  were  directed  against  vice  and  ridicule  which 


422  MEMOIRS    OF 

were  everywhere  to  be  met  with.  Those  who  find 
themselves  in  the  predicament  which  is  the  object  of 
the  general  satire,  have  no  right  to  complain. 

The  connoisseurs  and  amateurs  of  the  correct  models 
complained  loudly  against  these  two  works,  which,  as 
they  said,  had  a  tendency  to  degrade  the  French  theatre  : 
they  observed  their  countrymen  carried  away  by  a  sort 
of  fanatical  contagion  ;  and  they  dreaded  lest  the  disease 
should  become  universal.  Experience,  however,  has 
demonstrated  the  contrary.  There  were  exhibited  at 
the  same  time,  on  the  boards  of  the  French  Theatre, 
new  plays  of  a  very  different  description,  which  met 
with  all  the  success  that  could  be  expected  :  for  ex- 
ample, "  The  Coriolanus"  of  M.  de  la  Harpe,  "  The 
Seducer"  of  M.  Bievre,  "  The  Difficult  Avowals,"  and 
"  The  False  Coquette  "  of  M.  Vigé.  This  last  author 
was  even  encouraged  by  the  public  ;  these  first  displays 
of  his  talents  were  considered  as  in  the  very  best  tasle, 
tone,  and  style,  and  such  as  to  give  every  reason  to 
hope  that  he  would  prove  himself  the  prop  of  good 
comedy. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  year  1784,  whilst  I  was 
engaged  in  the  second  part  of  my  Memoirs,  one  of  my 
friends  spoke  to  me  of  a  business  very  much  connected 
with  that  I  was  employed  in. 

A  literary  gentleman  whom  T  have  not  the  honor 
of  knowing  sent  one  of  my  comedies,  translated  by 
him  into  French,  to  M.  Courcelle  of  the  Italian  theatre, 
requesting  the  actor  to  present  it  to  me,  and  to  get  it 
acted  if  I  was  pleased  with  his  translation,  with  the 
understanding,  as  he  very  kindly  chose  to  state,  that 
the  honor  and  profit  were  to  belong  to  the  author. 
The  piece  in  question  was  entitled  in  Italian  ''Un 
Curioso  Accidente"  (A  Droll  Adventure).     The  trans- 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  423 

lation  appeared  to  me  exact  ;  the  style  was  not  in  my 
manner,  but  every  one  has  his  own.  The  translator 
changed  the  title  into  that  of  "  The  Dupe  of  Himself," 
which  I  do  not  disapprove.  I  gave  my  consent  to  the 
representation,  the  comedians  received  it  at  the  reading 
with  acclamation  ;  it  was  given  the  following  year, 
and  completely  foiled.  One  part  of  the  piece  which 
occasioned  the  greatest  pleasure  in  Italy  shocked  the 
Parisian  public  ;  I  know  the  French  delicacy,  and  I 
ought  to  have  foreseen  the  consequence,  but  as  the 
translation  was  executed  by  a  Frenchman,  and  it  was 
applauded  by  the  actors,  I  allowed  myself  to  be  guided 
by  them.  Had  I  been  present  at  the  rehearsals,  I 
should  have  anticipated  the  danger  ;  but  I  was  unwell, 
and  the  comedians  were  eager  to  produce  it.  I  had 
distributed  several  tickets  for  the  first  representation, 
and  nobody  came  to  give  me  any  information  respect- 
ing it.  This  did  not  look  well.  I  went  to  bed,  how- 
ever, without  learning  anything  of  the  event  ;  but  my 
barber,  with  the  tears  in  his  eyes,  gave  me  an  account 
of  the  solemn  condemnation  of  the  piece.  I  instantly 
withdrew  it  ;  and  as  I  felt  myself  a  good  deal  better 
that  day,  I  dined  with  a  very  good  appetite. 

Long  accustomed  both  to  a  favorable  and  unfavor- 
able reception  from  the  public,  I  can  do  that  public 
justice  without  any  sacrifice  of  my  tranquillity.  The 
most  disagreeable  part  of  the  business  was  that  no- 
body called  on  me,  or  inquired  how  my  recovery  was 
going  on.  I  wrote  to  my  friends  to  learn  whether  my 
piece  had  incensed  them  against  me.  It  was,  on  the 
contrary,  the  excess  of  their  friendship  and  sensibility 
which  prevented  them  from  giving  vent  to  their  cha- 
grin before  me.  When  we  saw  one  another  again,  I 
was  obliged  to  assume  the  office  of  consoler. 


424  MEMOIRS    OF 

The  public  rejoicings  induced  me  to  quit  my  room, 
and  indemnified  me  for  the  illness  and  the  unpleasant 
circumstances  experienced  by  me.  The  queen  was 
delivered  of  another  prince;  on  the  27th  of  March, 
1785,  the  Duke  of  Normandy  was  born.  The  usual 
illuminations  took  place  at  Paris,  but  certain  rich  indi- 
viduals distinguished  themselves  on  this  occasion  in  a 
new  and  noble  manner.  The  fronts  of  their  palaces 
were  adorned  from  top  to  bottom  with  a  number  of 
illuminated  designs,  executed  with  great  skill.  It  was 
impossible  for  decorations  to  be  more  striking  or  splen- 
did. This  new  taste  will,  in  all  probability,  be  con- 
tinued at  Paris,  and  every  one  will  wish,  in  future,  to 
have  such  a  modish  illumination  as  his  circumstances 
can  afford. 

Fashion  has  always  been  the  rage  of  the  French. 
They  give  the  ton  to  all  Europe  in  whatever  relates  to 
theatres,  decorations,  dress,  trinkets,  and  everything 
where  pleasure  is  concerned.  The  French  are  every- 
where imitated.  In  the  beginning  of  every  season 
there  is  to  be  seen,  in  the  Mercery  Street  at  Venice,  a 
dressed  figure,  which  is  called  the  French  doll  {poupée 
da  France).  This  is  the  prototype  which  every 
woman  follows,  and  whatever  resembles  this  original 
is  considered  beautiful.  The  Venetian  women  are  as 
fond  of  changes  as  the  French  ;  the  tailors,  mantua- 
makers,  and  millinery  shops  take  advantage  of  this; 
and  if  France  does  not  supply  a  sufficiency  of  modes, 
the  Venetian  tradesmen  contrive  to  make  some  slight 
change  on  the  doll,  and  to  pass  off  their  own  ideas  for 
transalpine.  When  I  gave  at  Venice  my  comedy  en- 
titled "  The  Country  Mania,"  I  spoke  a  great  deal  of  a 
female  dress,  which  was  called  "the  marriage."  This 
was  a  dress  of  a  plain  stuff,  with  a  garniture  of  two 


CAKLO  GOLDONI.  425 

ribbons  of  different  colors,  the  model  of  which  was 
taken  from  the  doll.  On  my  arrival  in  France  I  in- 
quired if  such  a  fashion  had  ever  existed.  Nobody 
knew  anything  of  it;  there  had  never  been  such  a 
fashion  ;  it  was  pronounced  ridiculous,  and  I  was  even 
laughed  at  for  asking.  I  experienced  the  same  morti- 
fication in  speaking  of  the  Polish  dresses,  which  were 
adopted  by  the  women  in  Italy  when  I  left  it.  Twelve 
years  afterwards,  when  I  saw  the  Polish  dresses  at 
Paris,  I  was  quite  charmed  with  them.  The  mode  in 
dress,  it  is  true,  experienced  a  long  interregnum  in 
Prance  ;  but  it  has  again  resumed  its  ancient  empire. 
What  a  number  of  changes  in  a  short  time  !  Polish 
and  Jewish  dresses,  furs,  English  and  Turkish  dresses, 
frocks,  pierrots,  hats  of  a  hundred  shapes,  bonnets 
without  number,  and  head-dresses  !  — head-dresses  ! 

This  part  of  the  female  dress,  so  essential  for  the 
setting  off  their  grace  and  beauty,  was  some  time  ago 
at  the  highest  point  of  perfection.  It  is  now,  I  beg 
pardon  of  the  ladies  for  saying  so,  insupportable  in  my 
eyes.  The  tousled  hair,  and  toupees  which  fall  over 
their  eyebrows,  disfigure  them  sadly.  Women  are 
wrong,  in  my  opinion,  in  following  any  general  mode 
of  dressing  their  heads;  every  one  ought  to  consult 
her  glass,  to  examine  her  features,  and  adapt  the  ar- 
rangement of  her  hair  to  the  style  of  her  countenance, 
and  make  her  hair-dressers  follow  her  orders.  But 
before  my  Memoirs  leave  the  press,  perhaps  the  female 
head-dresses,  and  many  other  fashions,  will  have 
changed  ;  the  size  of  the  buckles  and  the  brims  of  the 
hats  will  be  diminished,  the  female  dresses  will  be 
more  noble  and  dignified,  and  the  breeches  of  the  gen- 
tlemen will  be  made  larger. 


426  MEMOIRS   OF 


XI. 
I  return  to  my  regimen,  —  you  will  say  here  also, 
perhaps,  that  I  ought  to  omit  it,  —  you  are  in  the 
right  ;  but  all  this  is  in  my  head,  and  I  must  be  de- 
livered of  it  by  degrees  ;  I  cannot  spare  you  a  single 
comma.  After  dinner  I  am  not  fond  of  either  working 
or  walking.  Sometimes  I  go  to  the  theatre,  but  I  am 
most  generally  in  parties  till  nine  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing. I  always  return  before  ten  o'clock.  I  take  two 
or  three  small  cakes  with  a  glass  of  wine  and  water, 
and  this  is  the  whole  of  my  supper.  I  converse  with 
my  wife  till  midnight  ;  I  very  soon  fall  asleep,  and 
pass  the  night  tranquilly.  It  sometimes  happens  to 
me,  as  well  as  every  other  person,  to  have  my  head 
occupied  with  something  capable  of  retarding  my 
sleep.  In  this  case  I  have  a  certain  remedy  to  lull 
myself  asleep;  and  it  is  this:  I  had  long  projected 
a  vocabulary  of  the  Venetian  dialect,  and  I  had  even 
communicated  my  intention  to  the  public,  who  are  still 
in  expectation  of  it.  While  laboring  at  this  tedious 
and  disgusting  work,  I  soon  discovered  that  it  threw  me 
asleep.  I  laid  it  therefore  aside,  and  I  profited  by  its  nar- 
cotic faculty.  Whenever  I  feel  my  mind  agitated  by  any 
moral  cause,  I  take  at  random  some  word  of  my  national 
language,  and  translate  it  into  Tuscan  and  French.  In 
the  same  manner  I  pass  in  review  all  the  words  which 
follow  in  the  alphabetical  order,  and  I  am  sure  to  fall 
asleep  at  the  third  or  fourth  version.  My  recipe  has 
never  once  failed  me.  It  is  not  difficult  to  demonstrate 
the  cause  and  effect  of  this  phenomenon.  A  painful 
idea  requires  to  be  replaced  by  an  opposite  or  indiffèr- 
ent idea  ;  and,  the  agitation  of  the  mind  once  calmed, 
the  senses  become  tranquil,  and  are  deadened  by  sleep. 


CARLO    GOLDOXI.  427 

But  this  remedy,  however  excellent,  might  not  he 
useful  to  every  one.  A  man  of  too  keen  and  feeling  a 
disposition  would  not  succeed.    The  temperament  must 

be  such  as  that  with  which  nature  has  favored  me. 
My  moral  qualities  hear  a  resemblance  to  my  physical; 
I  dread  neither  cold  nor  heat,  and  I  neither  allow  my- 
self to  he  inflamed  by  rage  uor  intoxicated  by  joy. 

I  am  now  arrived  at  the  year  1787.  which  is  the 
eightieth  of  my  age,  and  that  to  which  I  have  limited 
the  course  of  my  Memoirs.  I  have  completed  my 
eightieth  year  :  my  work  is  also  finished.  All  is  over, 
and  I  proceed  to  send  my  volumes  to  the  press.  This 
last  chapter  does  not,  therefore,  touch  on  the  events  of 
the  current  year  ;  but  I  have  still  some  duties  to  dis- 
charge. I  must  begin  with  returning  thanks  to  those 
persons  who  have  reposed  so  much  confidence  in  me  as 
to  honor  me  with  their  subscriptions. 

I  do  not  speak  of  the  kindness  and  favors  of  the  king 
and  court  :  this  is  not  the  place  to  mention  them.  I 
have  named  in  my  work  some  of  my  friends  aud  even 
some  of  my  protectors.  I  beg  pardon  of  them  :  if  I 
have  done  so  without  their  permission,  it  is  not  through 
vanity  :  the  occasion  has  suggested  it  ;  their  names 
have  dropped  from  my  pen,  the  heart  has  seized  on 
the  instant,  aud  the  hand  has  not  been  unwilling.  For 
example,  the  following  is  one  of  the  fortunate  occasions 
I  allude  to.  I  was  unwell  a  few  days  ago  ;  the  Couut 
Alfieri  did  me  the  honor  to  call  on  me;  I  knew  his 
talents,  but  his  conversation  impressed  on  me  the 
wrong  which  I  should  have  done  in  omitting  him.  He 
is  a  very  intelligent  and  learned  literary  man,  who 
principally  excels  in  the  art  of  Sophocles  and  Euripi- 
des, and  after  these  great  models  he  has  framed  his 
tragedies.     They  have  gone  through  two  editions  in 


428  MEMOIRS    OF   CARLO    GOLDONL 

Italy,  and  are  at  present  in  the  press  of  Didot  at  Paris. 
I  shall  enter  into  no  details  respecting  them,  as  they 
may  he  seen  and  judged  of  hy  every  one. 

I  have  undertaken  too  long  and  too  laborious  a  work 
for  my  age,  and  I  have  employed  three  years  on  it, 
always  dreading  lest  I  should  not  have  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  it  finished.  However,  I  am  still  in  life,  thanks 
to  God,  and  T  Hatter  myself  that  I  shall  see  my  vol- 
umes, printed,  distributed,  and  read.  If  they  be  not 
praised,  I  hope  at  least  they  will  not  be  despised.  I 
shall  not  be  accused  of  vanity  or  presumption  in  daring 
to  hope  for  some  share  of  favor  for  my  Memoirs  ;  for, 
had  I  thought  that  I  should  absolutely  displease,  I 
would  not  have  taken  so  much  pains  ;  and  if  in  the  good 
and  ill  which  I  say  of  myself,  the  balance  inclines  to 
the  favorable  side,  I  owe  more  to  nature  than  to  study. 
All  the  application  employed  by  me,  in  the  construc- 
tion of  my  pieces,  has  been  that  of  not  disfiguring  na- 
ture, and  all  the  care  taken  by  me  in  my  Memoirs  has 
been  that  of  telling  only  the  truth.  The  criticism  of  my 
pieces  may  have  the  correction  and  improvement  of 
comedy  in  view  ;  but  the  criticism  of  my  Memoirs  will 
be  of  no  advantage  to  literature.  However,  if  any 
writer  should  think  proper  to  employ  his  time  on  me 
for  the  sole  purpose  of  vexing  me,  he  would  lose  his 
labor.  I  am  of  a  pacific  disposition  ;  I  have  always 
preserved  my  coolness  of  character  ;  at  my  age  I  read 
little,  and  I  read  only  amusing  books. 


THE    END. 


Cambridge  :  Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co. 


M»Tom  the) 
!  'Boohs  0/ 


Jlobinson  Go.  j 

H  **vtnlh  i«rând  1 


L65/1192 
25(f 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGlONA 


B    000  013  032    8 


